Survival
by Sarah the nerd
Summary: War of the Worlds 2005 - Ray, his kids, Maryann, her parents, and her husband Tim, begin their new life at the end of the world. Then Ray meets a woman driven half crazy by the loss of her family, and everything goes spectacularly to hell.
1. The End Was My Beginning

August 2008: I've been through this entire story and edited it slightly. Mostly it was to remove the constant Britishisms, which annoyed me no end. Concrit would be greatly appreciated on this story, in case I missed anything.

**Survival**  
_1. The End Was My Beginning_

* * *

_It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine._  
_-REM_

* * *

Almost immediately after walking in, Ray and Rachel had gone to sleep on the sofa. Ray had woken last, and now Rachel wasn't there, and nor was anyone else.

"Hello?" he yelled, loud enough to wake the dead. "Rachel? Robbie?"

"I'm here," Rachel said, sticking her head around the door. "There's a sofa bed upstairs. Mum says you'll either have to share it or sleep there again tonight."

Ray remembered exactly where he was, and who he was with, and was so relieved he sat down again. "What time is it, Rachel?" he asked.

"I dunno," she said. "But it's still Saturday."

The same day. Earlier that morning a giant alien fighting machine had fallen down right near them, earlier today there'd been _aliens_...

"Rachel..." he said, noticing for the first time. "You need a bath."

"So do you," she answered. "But there's not much water. I can have a bath but after that we gotta ration it."

_What about me? _Ray thought, but he figured it didn't really matter.

"Mom says we might have to use rain water or something, when ours runs out," Rachel said, matter-of-factly. "Are you all right? I can save the bath water, if you like, so..."

"No. No, Rach," Ray said. "I'll be fine. I'm not that dirty."

"You _are_," said another voice. This time it was Maryann, who had appeared behind her daughter. "You can use the shower. It'll be alright, I'm sure things won't get _too _drastic..." She trailed off. Ray hoped she was using understatement on purpose.

"What about food?" he asked, as it occured to him for the first time.

"Well," Maryann said, gently pushing Rachel out of the room and waiting until she'd gone, "there isn't much. That's the thing, you see," she said quietly, "there's only enough to last a few days, then...I don't imagine the shops will be open..." She gave a tiny, almost hysterical, laugh.

"Well, you never know," Ray said. "It's not like _everybody's_..."

But it was very, very quiet. There weren't any cars outside, or sirens in the distance, or any music playing anywhere...and looking out of the window, there was no-one in the street. Half the entire world was dead.

"...so," Ray said, "The things, the aliens, they're dead, you know. The ones that were here in Boston. And the rest...I dunno... " The _I dunno _terrified him. He was only just beginning to think straight again.

"Yes," Maryann said. And then, in a small voice, "We have, after all, been expecting to die for the past few days."

What on earth could you answer to that? "If we need food at all, I should go."

"Don't go."

Rachel was back.

"Don't go," she said again, "they're still out there."

A thousand disaster scenarios ran through Ray's head: the aliens would be back. Even now they were shaking off whatever had killed a couple of them, and they'd destroy Boston, and whatever else was still standing...it was bordering on the stupidly optimistic to think otherwise.

He threw up on the carpet. It felt horrible. Maryann, to her credit, barely batted an eyelid.

"Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up," she said.

He staggered off to the tiny bathroom under the stairs. He splashed water on his face, rubbed the dirt off as well...and then the images came. All the little things he'd been too terrified to really notice: the burning train, the burning trees, the dead bodies in the river...

He was sick again, in the toilet this time. He went through the cleaning up process once more, and let himself out. He found himself face-to-face with Maryann's mother, the children's grandmother, Anna. She was not his favourite person, and he knew he wasn't hers.

"Sorry," he muttered, and walked past her to the living room. But she stepped in his way, a funny look on her face.

"I didn't think you'd come back," she said. "Well done."

"Um." was his answer. He figured that was as close to gratitude as he was going to get from her. "Thanks." Then he went back to the living room- Maryann was there, sitting on the sofa with Rachel on her lap. The vomit on the floor had been cleaned up and covered by a rug.

Something occured to Ray. "Is the TV working?"

"No," Maryann said. "No electricity. So no radio either. We've got nothing."

Ray turned from her and looked out of the window- there was still no-one there. For the first time since arriving at this undoubtedly safe place, panic began to set in- what if they were supposed to starve to death now? Just to finish off the job?

Then he thought of something. "Where's Robbie?" he asked.

"Upstairs," Rachel said.

* * *

Ray climbed the stairs, and tried the first door he came to. It was a bedroom, but Robbie wasn't in there. He tried all the other rooms, but he was nowhere to be found. Ray was just beginning to panic (and how could he not, after seeing what he assumed was Robbie's death?) when he thought of something. He went back to the first room, went to the large wooden wardrobe, and pulled it open. Robbie was there. He looked up, but didn't say anything.

So Ray spoke first. "You used to hide in wardrobes all the time," he said, "when you were a little kid."

"I was looking for Narnia," Robbie said tonelessly, and climbed out. He looked like he had no idea what to do with himself, and never would again. Then he said, "Look out of the window."

Ray crossed to the window, quietly dreading seeing _anything_ out there- there could be piles of dead bodies, or dead aliens...but it wasn't _quite _as bad. It was a helicopter, or most of a helicopter. It was crashed outside, taking up all of the large back garden and the part of the one next to it. The grass and trees were burnt, so it must have come down in flames. People had probably been in there at the time.

"Oh god," Ray said. "If that'd hit the house..."

"We're lucky it didn't," Robbie said. "It was a near miss...we've had far too many near misses, you noticed?"

Ray turned around to face him, and couldn't think of a single thing to say that would sound right. So instead he said, "Tell me what happened to you."

"No," Robbie said. And then he added, "I haven't told _anyone_."

"Then it's about time you did," Ray said.

"You'll hate me."

"I _won't_," Ray said, a vague dread sneaking up on him now. "You tell...and..."

"And what?"

"And I'll tell you what happened to me."

"No...you go first," Robbie said.

"No, _you _go first."

"_You _go."

"I think _you_ should," It occured to him then that this really wasn't fair on Robbie, and he was about to take back what he'd just said when Robbie said, "All _right_- I tried to shoot someone, all right?"

Ray almost laughed, awful as that was. "Is...is that all?"

"Yeah," Robbie said.

"Why'd you try and shoot someone?"

"I found a gun on the floor, and it was still working, and there was all this...shooting going on...this was after the fire, I just missed the fire, I jumped on one of the trucks...the truck turned around later, that was when the shooting started..." He paused for a second. "I dunno what really happened, but someone tried to throw me out, they said _if you want to fight go out there then,_ and I was too scared...everyone else was getting out of the truck and I just _stayed_..." He sounded like he was going to be sick. "So I pointed the gun at this guy, and said he had to drive the truck away from there or I'd shoot him..."

He stopped.

"So what did the guy do?" Ray asked.

"He...I can't remember...he tried to get the gun off me, but I...I dunno what I did..." And now he seemed very far away. "I just kept saying over and over, _I'll fucking kill you_...and he drove the truck off, and threw me off, and took the gun, and...that's it, I think. Then I started walking back here."

"That's it?" Ray asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Robbie, that's not so bad...you didn't actually hurt anyone." That sounded so false, but he _had _to mean it.

"I was going to shoot him, though," Robbie said, back to the monotone voice. "I really thought I would..."

"Yeah, but you _didn't_..."

Robbie edged away from him. "Now you have to say what happened to you,"

Ray's heart sank. "Alright," he said. "Alright...I can't save it for later, can I?"

"That's not fair."

Ray looked away from him, out of the window, and _knew _he wouldn't be able to say it, that he would have to lie, lie to his son...

"I killed a man with my bare hands."

Silence...well, that was predictable. Ray looked at Robbie.

"Oh," Robbie said. And then, "Why...?"

He looked utterly shocked, not emotionless at all any more, and Ray didn't think he'd even be able to remember the answer to _why_. He wanted to go back to sleep.

"He was...he was putting your sister in danger...I didn't want to..."

But Robbie still looked faintly shocked.

"You..._how_?"

"I can't remember." That was true. "I just...I didn't _want _to kill him, alright?"

But it was hopeless. Really fucking hopeless...of course he'd _wanted _to, because he had had to keep Rachel alive. He'd killed someone, and there was no getting around that. He was a murderer. Dear god.

"What was he doing?" Robbie asked. "I mean...did he have a gun?"

"He was shouting," Ray said. "He was going to bring the aliens to us." Now there was a sentence he'd never thought he'd say. In fact, here was a situation he'd never thought he'd be in, and had certainly never wanted to be in. "So..."

"But did he have a gun?" Robbie asked again.

"I can't remember."

Throughout the conversation Robbie had remained rooted to the spot. Now he glanced around as if not sure where to go. "I suppose," he said gloomily, "that you're not the only one who did something like that."

"No," Ray said. "Come here..." He meant to give him a hug and say he was sorry, but Robbie shook his head and went away.

Ray cursed under his breath, then he remembered something.

"Hey Robbie, I forgot- I brought down one of those things. A tripod...I brought it down."

Robbie stopped dead.

"You did _what_?"

"It picked me up, me and your sister, I had some grenades and blew it up from the inside."

Robbie's eyes widened like he was looking at a ghost. "You were _in _one? You blew it _up_? And you _forgot_ to tell me?"

"Sorry." And then he hastily explained everything: the brief stay in the cellar with the dead body rotting somewhere out of sight, the alien probe, the cages, the grenades, and being in the darkness with someone pulling him back. He knew perfectly well why he'd forgotten to mention it; because it had barely sunk in.

"Other people dragged you out?" Robbie asked breathlessly. "People you didn't even know?"

"Yeah."

"I..." Robbie shook his head. "I...don't believe it. Not like that," he added. "I know you did it, I just don't believe it."

"I know the feeling," He smiled very, very feebily. "I never used to believe in aliens."

Robbie took that completely seriously. "Me neither. I bet half the world didn't, and now most of them are dead."


	2. The Safe Place

**Survival**  
_2. The Only Safe Place On Earth_

Night fell far too fast. Ray had a shower and then slept some more, and when he woke up Maryann was standing over him. She was holding a small flashlight.

"Hello," Ray said tiredly.

"Hello," she answered. "Robbie told me he talked to you."

The dread came back. "Yeah," Ray said. "Has he told you..."

"He hasn't told me a thing," Maryann said. "I was hoping you would."

Ray weighed it all up in his mind: he wouldn't want Robbie telling anyone else what _he _had done. Especially not her. He could almost see her horrified expression.

"I'm sworn to secrecy," he said, and managed to smile. Maryann just looked worried.

"Ray, he hasn't...he's going to be alright?"

"Yeah, I should think so." Or as alright as any of them were going to be.

"What time is it?" he found himself asking.

"Gone midnight."

"Why aren't you asleep?" And then he realised he had other questions, such as the whereabouts of the other three people in the house. "Where are your parents and Tim?"

"Upstairs," she answered.

"I hope they don't mind sharing a house with me."

"I doubt that," she answered, and she exited the room then with only a quick backwards glance, leaving Ray alone to sleep on the couch in the dark.

* * *

He was woken up by sunlight flooding into the room. It was morning. For a split second he thought he was back in his own house- he had frequently slept on the couch then- but he wasn't, and of course the house wasn't even there anymore. He realised he hadn't even really digested that information yet. He still assumed he'd get to go home, with the kids, eventually...

But this was the closest to home he was going to get.

He stood up. It occured to him all of a sudden that he was still wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing for almost a week: it hadn't even occured to him to change them. He'd have to get new ones. Somehow.

He went through to the kitchen. Everyone else, even Robbie, was sitting around the big table in the middle. Maryann's parents, Gerald and Anna, were passing around a dish of what looked like apple pie.

"Hi Dad," Rachel chirped. "We've saved some for you."

There wasn't much room at the table. Tim and Maryann shifted along so Ray could find a chair and sit down. Except there were no more chairs, so he had to make do with a upturned flowerpot instead. Rachel gave him the last piece of pie, and he ate gratefully.

It wasn't, however, the most comfortable meal he'd ever had. No-one said very much. After all, what was there to say- most of it was too horrible or too painful. The fact that they were together and safe was most important, and Ray suspected that that was why no-one mentioned it: they were afraid it'd go away.

Eventually Maryann said, "Ray, we need to get you some new clothes."

"Where from?"

"From here, of course. Is that alright, Tim?" Tim answered only with a nod. "Come on, then, Ray."

Ray followed her up the stairs. "What's up with Tim?" he asked.

She turned around and looked at him, taking him by surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

"He's barely said a word since we got here. Hasn't criticized my appearance or anything at all..."

"Tim doesn't criticize you, Ray," she said heavily. "Anyway, he's upset- if upset is the word- because he can't contact his son."

Ray stopped dead.

"I didn't know he had a son."

"Well, he doesn't know much about you, either."

_He knows I have kids, _Ray thought to himself, but it didn't sound right to him. Out loud he said, "Where was his son, then? When all this started?"

"He was living in New York with his mother. They were never married, you see, her and Tim..." She trailed off. "Joseph- that's his name- Tim thinks he might be _trying _to contact us..."

"How old is he?" Ray found himself asking.

"About Robbie's age."

"The phones aren't working, right?"

"Ray, _nothing _is working."

She led him to one of the bedrooms, and started looking through the drawers and cupboards.

"Here," she said, throwing some clothes in his direction. "These'll do."

Ray went to the mirror and held them up in front of him. "Are they Tim's? At least he's got fashion sense, I'll say that for him." But that didn't sound right at all...how could you sound even vaguely dismissive about someone who hadn't been as lucky as you? It sounded cruel.

"So, ur...do you suppose his kid is still alive?" he said quickly.

"Let's not talk about this," Maryann said, in a warning tone of voice. Maybe Tim could hear them. Or maybe talking about people dying would do them no good.

He changed the subject. "We'll have to get more clothes eventually...and I did say I'd go outside and look for food and things."

"I'd rather you didn't," Maryann said.

"But we could run out of food in days..."

"A day is a long time," Maryann said firmly. "Enough time to think. We'll work something out. Going out is a last resort, all right?"

"All right," Ray said.

He wondered why he was still listening to her. She didn't have any authority over him, after all. Really he should just completely ignore her and anything she had to say.

But he knew he probably wouldn't.

* * *

When he went downstairs, the kids weren't in the kitchen any more. He looked around for them- he didn't like not knowing where they were- and found them in the living room playing chess.

He hadn't known either of them knew how to play chess. _He_ certainly didn't know how..

"Are those Tim's clothes?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah."

"I've seen him wearing them."

"How do I look?"

"Normal."

Satisfied with that, Ray went to find Tim. He was in the study, as it turned out, staring out of the window. He didn't notice anyone come in, and Ray considered just going away again.

"Hello," he finally ventured.

"Hello," Tim said, not turning around.

This had been an extremely stupid idea. "I was just thinking..." Ray said, "maybe your son is at a refugee camp, or something. There probably are some, by now."

"Oh," Tim said. "Maryann told you, did she?"

"Yeah."

Tim shrugged hopelessly. "If only the phones were working..." he muttered. Then he finally looked right at Ray. "There's nothing you can do," he said. "_Please _don't try."

"We could walk to New York," Ray blurted.

Tim actually seemed to consider this, then he shook his head, and said. "I don't even know if he's there. He could be _anywhere_. It'd do no good."

Ray felt faintly irritated: that sounded like giving up. "Yeah, but..."

But there wasn't really a _but_, he realised. Tim's son most likely was dead, and going out searching- all the way to New York without a car- would be a foolish move considering they didn't know what was out there. _But_...

...Rachel and Robbie and himself,_ they'd_ managed to get home.

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful. There was only so much to do stuck in the house with no electricity- mostly they played board games. Alcohol was offered around to the adults, but it didn't cheer anyone up. And by the end of the evening, both Maryann and her mother seemed close to tears.

"What's the matter, Mom?" Robbie asked.

"It's nothing, Robbie..." Maryann got up from the sofa and took a box of tissues from the cupboard. She blew her nose loudly.

"Of course it's not nothing," Gerald spoke up. "You go and walk down the street and you'll find dead bodies. I doubt anything is nothing now- just tell him, Maryann."

Maryann kneeled on the carpet next to the kids. "It's your aunt...Aunt Miriam, remember her?" she said quietly. "My sister. She...well, we were just saying..."

Ray didn't hear the rest of that, because then he had a thought. What about the rest of his family...his brother and his parents? He hadn't even thought about them...or if he had, he'd automatically figured they must be dead and he'd grieve for them later.

And, well, now it was later. And they were probably still dead.

He felt sick. He hadn't even _seen _them for ages. He'd last seen his brother months ago, when he'd taken the kids there for a weekend...they'd spent more time with their cousins than with him...

He was suddenly aware of Rachel sitting next to him.

"And Uncle Richard must be dead as well," she said seriously. She sounded so old- no kid should talk about death like that- and it broke his heart.

"Yeah," Ray managed to say. "I...suppose so."

Rather predictably, a utter silence filled the room.

"Well," Gerald said, "it won't do us any good to sit around thinking about these things. You never know, after all..." He trailed off, looking at each of them in turn. "I think perhaps we should go bed."

* * *

Ray followed the kids to their bedroom- they were sharing the biggest one. There was only one bed, but Robbie had given it up to his sister and was sleeping in a sleeping bag. Their room had a window looking out on the back garden- the curtains were firmly closed.

"Well," Ray said. "Are you going to be alright, in here on your own?"

"I'm keeping the light on," Rachel said. And then: "Sing that song you sung- back when we were...you know..." She cast a worried glance at her brother.

"What song?" Robbie asked, not noticing.

Ray sang as much of it as he could remember. Rachel closed her eyes and looked like she was asleep, but Robbie didn't, and when the song finished he was staring in what appeared to be mild horror.

"Please don't ever sing again," he said.

Ray could only laugh. It felt good. He said goodnight, left the bedroom, and found Tim outside.

"I was going to read Rachel a bedtime story," he said. He had a kid's book in his hand. Ray instantly felt a cold jealousy.

"She's a little old for that, don't you think?"

"No." Tim said. And he went on, "They're virtually my kids too- I pay for their education, food and clothes. I know what you did, and I'm grateful, but beforehand you weren't there and I was- so when do I get a look in here?

Ray could only walk away. He'd have lost his temper otherwise, and that would do no-one any good.


	3. Contact

**Survival**  
_3. Contact_

The next day, Ray saw people outside for the first time. He was in the living room with Tim, Anna, Robbie and Rachel- he hadn't said a word to Tim- and Robbie suddenly said, "There's people out there."

All of them shot to the window, and sure enough, there were. A man, two women, a teenage girl...that was it, but it was _something_. Anna tapped the window, but none of them noticed.

"I'm going outside," Ray said. "I'll stay in sight." Rachel turned her eyes to him, shaking her head frantically. "Rachel, it'll be okay- you can come with me," he said, but she shook her head again.

"They might be bad people," she said.

Ray thought quickly. "Then I'll stay in the doorway-"

She said nothing- just gave what was almost a nod- so he went to the door, flung it open and yelled at the top of his voice. "Hey! You guys! HEY!"

One of the women turned around and saw him. She gave a small gasp, grabbed the other woman's arm, and yelled to the others. All four of them came running over, and stopped at the step. Robbie, Rachel, Maryann and all the others were gathered in the doorway by now.

"You'rethe first normal-looking people we've seen in weeks," the first woman said. She looked exactly like Ray and Rachel had looked upon entering Boston: exhausted, frightened, and covered in blood and dust. She reached out a hand, and Ray, not sure what to do, shook it.

"Umm, hi," he said. "You'd all better come in."

* * *

So they came in.

"I'm Catherine," the first woman said, clenching and unclenching her hands over and over. Maryann and Tim had gone to make drinks for the newcomers, and Gerald and Anna had taken the kids upstairs, so Ray was left alone to deal with all this. Well, he didn't mind. Or not much. He'd invited them in, after all.

"Ray Ferrier," he said. "Ur, nice to meet you."

Catherine smiled faintly.

"I'm Lydia," the other woman spoke up. "This is my daughter, Stacey, and my father, Andy." The girl and the man briefly looked up as their names were said. The girl looked the worst out of all of them, like she'd been crying non-stop for hours on end.

"Hello. My ex-wife..." Ray didn't want to describe her as just that, not anymore anyway, but he wasn't sure what else to say, "...she's making you some hot chocolate. Or coffee, I'm not sure."

"I don't like coffee," the girl said, speaking for the first time. "Or hot choclate."

"Oh," Ray said. "Well, I'll get you something else...if you'll excuse me..."

He hurried out of the room. He didn't like this...he was fine with these people staying in the house, even though said house wasn't his, but he didn't want to talk- these people must be in pieces mentally, and he himself...

He heard voices upstairs- Robbie and Rachel talking- and appreciated not for the first time how incredibly lucky he'd been. How lucky beyond all reason.

Someone tapped his shoulder. He spun around and it was Catherine. He noticed a few things about her that he hadn't before: like the fact there was a cut on her neck and blood down her purple shirt.

"We're not staying," she whispered.

"Oh," he said again. Oddly, on hearing that he was almost glad, although he didn't want to admit it- less people meant more food and more space, after all, but he didn't want them to just wander off into probable danger. They'd be much safer in the house. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said.

Maryann appeared then, Tim-less, carrying a trayful of cups. "Hello," she said gently to Catherine. "I've got some drinks."

Catherine nodded. "We're not staying," she said again. "We're going...on."

"For what?" Maryann asked, confusion in her voice. She went through to the sitting room, placed the tray on the nearest table and glanced around at everyone. "Let's...sit down, everyone..."

Ray did so. Catherine sat down next to him, and Tim wandered in through the door just then. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. Ray pushed the door shut.

"Well," Maryann said awkwardly, "there's coffee for everyone who wants it..."

"I don't like coffee," the teenager spoke up.

"She doesn't like coffee," Ray said hastily. "I can get you something else, um...Stacey, was it?"

"No," the girl said. "I'm not thirsty."

"You should drink something, sweetheart," Maryann said, "else you'll get dehydrated..."

"I'll get her some water," Lydia said, "if you don't mind me using your kitchen?" At Maryann's nod, she left the room, leaving a trail of muddy footprints on the carpet.

"So," Maryann said, looking at Catherine, "you said you're not staying?"

"We've got things to look for," Catherine said quietly, "like my fiancee, and my best friend...we got seperated..."

"Are you related to the others? To Andy or Lydia?" Ray asked, unable to contain that leftover bit of curiousity any more. She nodded. "Cousins. Lydia's cousin."

"And you were travelling together?" That was the best way he could think of putting things, but it sounded like they'd all been off on a camping trip or something. "You all set off to leave together?"

Stacey gave a hollow laugh, and everyone looked at her. "There was us," she said, "_and _my sister, and my dad."

Ray winced. "I'm sorry," he said. Maryann nodded in agreement

"I don't know what happened to them," Stacey said flatly. "I can hardly remember."

"Oh, honey..."

Lydia was back, holding a glass of water. She went to her daughter. "Stacey, listen to me..."

"No," Stacey said, and she took the water, drained the whole glass and put it on the floor. Then she curled up on the sofa hopelessly- Ray looked at Maryann and saw she was almost crying.

"Where did you all say you were going?" Tim asked, speaking for the first time.

"Anywhere," Andy answered. "We heard there was a refugee camp somewhere near here, there's one in every city..."

"Seriously?"

"That's what we heard," Andy said, and Tim got to his feet.

"Is it safe out there?" At this, Stacey gave a wail, and Tim hastily sank back down again. "I mean...since yesterday or so...they seem to have gone..."

"Yes," Catherine said. "They seem to. It's the people you want to watch out for."

There was a silence. Ray was transported back in time for a second, to that horrible cold cellar, the dirt, the sound of singing... He shuddered. No-one noticed.

"You're not even staying for a night?" Maryann asked, and Ray supposed she was thinking the same thing he'd thought a minute ago: not enough beds or food or water for much longer, but they can't just leave, they've survived this far...

"There are other places to stay," Lydia said, her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Empty houses. With food, sometimes."

"But you wouldn't want to stay somewhere with people," Tim stated flatly.

"Well," Catherine said, the ghost of a smile on her face, "_they're_ people," She gestured to her companions, and Ray supposed she was right.

"Have you seen any other people, though?" Maryann asked.

"A few," Catherine said. "I mean, I take it you mean_ living _people...yeah, there's been quite a few."

_Living _people. Ray shuddered again, and he wasn't the only one. Stacey sobbed again, louder and louder. Ray almost ran to her and told her to be quiet, to _please _be quiet, before remembering that wasn't necessary anymore. Tim looked uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he said, and everyone looked at him. "I know it must be..." But he stopped, stood up, and walked out of the room. No-one seemed especially surprised.

"He's lost his son," Maryann said. "Or he...he probably has." She sighed and brushed the hair out of her face. "You four...you can't leave without some food. You can take some of ours."

So they did. They all trasped over to the kitchen, Maryann found some bags of crisps and Ray found a plastic bag for them to carry it all in. Stacey was still crying. Ray wished there was something he could do for her, but supposed there probably wasn't, short of bringing her father and sister back. And no-one could do that.

As the four travellers were about to leave, Robbie came downstairs. He stared in bemusement.

"I thought they were staying," he said to Ray. "There's room..."

"They don't want to stay," Ray answered. He could do little more than shrug: he really wanted them to stay now. He felt guilty, watching them go.

"What's up with the girl?" Robbie asked. Stacey was leaning against her mother and crying as they headed for the door. That, of course, served to make Ray feel worse.

"Her family's dead," Ray said. "Or most of it."

"Oh."

They went through to the sitting room and watched them leave. They walked off to the left. Ray wondered if they knew where they were going.

And where was everyone else? Only four passers-by in one day? Was there really a camp around?

"Robbie," he said, "tomorrow we've got to go outside, alright? We can't stay in the house forever."

"We?" Robbie asked. "Do I get to go?"

"Oh. Um...I'd rather you didn't."

Robbie looked to be considering this. "I don't think you should go alone," he muttered. "You have to take someone with you."

"You mean, take you?" Ray had no intention of doing that. If Robbie even wandered out of sight, while they were out on the streets, he himself would probably go mad with fear.

"You'd say no, right?"

"It's not because I don't trust you. I want you to stay safe. And this is the safest we've got," He glanced around the room. "And it'd be good if you stayed with Rachel."

"Oh yeah, Rachel," Robbie said, "She won't like it, if you go."

"Yeah," Ray said, "I know she won't."

* * *

The next morning, Ray sneaked into the kitchen and found some knives in the drawer. He took a couple and put them in his pockets. There were, as far as he knew, no guns in the house.

He hoped no-one would find the knives were gone.

He went upstairs and bumped into Maryann, coming downstairs. She was in her pyjamas, and looked shocked to see him for a moment.

"Ray, what're you..."

"It's safe to go outside, right?" he said. "I can go today, and find some food- and clothes and batteries and the rest..."

"Ray, we have enough food..."

"No we don't."

She marched past him,down the stairs to the kitchen, and opened the fridge. "Enough for another two days at least, you see? You don't have to..."

Ray leaned past her and picked up the milk bottle. "It's gone off," he said. Maryann put it firmly back in the fridge.

"I'd rather no-one left the house. Not until- until the electricity comes back on, at least..."

"That might not be for weeks." They'd had arguments like this before, the small arguments all married couples had, until they'd turned nasty. "If _ever_. I can go alone if you like."

She sighed. Clearly, she knew she was beaten. "Alright," she said. "Alright. Rachel needs new clothes- mine are too big for her, obviously. And get some _decent _food, please- don't just head for the nearest McDonalds. God, it wouldn't surprise me if McDonalds was still open, come to think of it. Get plenty of fruit. And water, bottled water- get as much of that as you can carry, alright?"

Ray wondered if he should write all this down. She used to do this all the time, walk around the house looking in cupboards and dictating exactly what they needed. It used to get on his nerves. "Bottled water. Okay."

"Maybe I should go with you," Maryann said warily.

"No. You're _pregnant_, for god's sake."

"Yes. I know. Fine. You don't have to take that tone."

"I'll go with him," someone said. It was Tim. _Of course it was Tim_, Ray thought bleakly.

"You don't have to," he said. "I'll go on my own. Besides, Maryann wants you to stay- right?" He glanced at her, and she glared back.

"Tim?" she asked.

"I want to ask around," he said quietly, "about Joseph. You never know."

Ray considered this. On the one hand, he didn't like the man, but on the other hand...you couldn't say no to a request like that. It'd be cruel. Especially since _he _was the one who had advised things like walking to New York.

"Okay, sure," he said. "You can come."

"Thank you," Tim said, nothing but politeness in his voice. "We'll take some money."

"Why?"

"In case, somehow, the shops are open."

Ray had to stop himself rolling his eyes. "Alright," he said. "We'd better leave before the kids wake up. I don't want them to worry."

"They'll worry anyway," Tim said. "As soon as they wake up and find we're not here." He seemed to have just barely avoided adding 'stupid'.

"Well," Ray said, not wanting to yell at him right now, "you go and get some money now, alright, and I'll- I'll get some shopping bags or something."

"Sorry," Tim said, "are we waking Robbie and Rachel or not?"

"You're not," Maryann spoke up. "I'll tell them where you've gone."

The two men looked at each other for a moment.

"You go and find some money, then," Ray said eventually. "I'll meet you by the front door." Without waiting for an answer he ran to the sitting room, hunted around in the cupboards and drawers, finally found some scraps of paper, and then took a pen from one of the tables.

_Robbie and Rachel,_

_I've gone to look for food and clothes and stuff. I have Tim with me. We'll both be back safe, don't worry about us. Be good for your mother._

_Love Dad xxx_

He read it over: it didn't really look right. He had a feeling that his handwriting was almost too messy to read, as well, but it would have to do. He raced upstairs, folded the paper and put it on the bookcase outside the kid's room, and then ran back down again. He grabbed a backpack from the lobby, and went back to the kitchen.

"And it's the water situation I'm most worried about," Tim was saying to Maryann. He was counting money out on the dining table, and didn't look up. "If the worst comes to the worst, we'll have to collect it from rivers, or something like that-"

"Hey," Ray said loudly. "Are we leaving?"

"Be patient," Tim said. He put the money in his pocket, not suggesting Ray take any, and turned to Maryann. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he said. "By early afternoon at the latest. Try not to worry."

"I'll _try_," Maryann said.

"See you later, then," he said, and kissed her. Ray looked away. Then Tim let go of her, and started walking towards the front door.

"Ray," he hissed.

"Yeah?"

"We might want to take a gun, or something."

"I've got some knives. Those will have to do."

They opened the front door- there was no-one there. Maryann walked up behind them.

"_Please _be careful," she said.

"We will," Tim said. He kissed her again- and Ray looked in the other direction again- and then they left.


	4. The Trip

**Survival**  
_4. The Trip_

Halfway down the road Tim stopped all of a sudden.

"What?" Ray said.

"That woman. She's looking at us." He pointed towards the house nearest to them. Sure enough, an old woman was staring from the window of her front room. She saw them pointing, and dodged out of sight.

"Shall we go and..." Tim said hesitantly.

"And what?"

"Ask if she's all right."

"Okay."

They went to the door and knocked. Ray expected no answer, but the woman, clearly knowing she had already been seen, opened it just a little.

"What d'ya want?" she hissed.

"Excuse us, miss," Ray said, putting to use the manners everyone said he lacked. "We came to see if you were all right."

"I'm fine," the woman said, and made to close the door.

"You're not out of food or anything?" Ray tried, but she slammed it in his face. He turned to Tim, who shrugged.

"That must be a 'no'" he said.

"That ungrateful old bitch."

Tim just raised an eyebrow at that. That eyebrow raise clearly meant _No wonder you're divorced if you say things like that about frightened old people, you inconsiderate jerk, _and so Ray shut up.

* * *

They walked down the road, and then they headed for the city center. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"Is that Gerald's backpack?" Tim asked eventually.

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose so."

"You took it without asking?"

"It's only a backpack."

Tim shook his head in frustration. "You...argh, never mind. I take it you know the way to the shops?"

"Roughly."

A little way further, and they found people. A big group of refugees, gathered around a tree. They were sharing food around, and, of course, they all looked shell-shocked. Some were covered in blood, others in dust. Ray wondered if they knew what the dust was. How could they not?

"Hey," he called.

A few people looked up. Ray thought suddenly of looking for Catherine and the others, but they didn't seem to be in this group.

"Hey, ur..."

He took a step towards towards them.

"Is this where all the people are, then?" he shouted in their direction.

"There's people that way," one of the girls yelled. She pointed up the road. "Are you guys lost? We've got food and water."

_Are you guys lost_. It sounded odd- most people still alive weren't just lost, they were tired and terrified and alone.

"No, it's alright," Tim shouted. "Thanks. We're just looking for information."

"Well," shouted one of the others, a boy this time, "we passed a notice board, on the way here. Best you're gonna get."

"Thanks," Ray called, but Tim hurried towards the group, and exchanged a few words with the girl. She shook her head. Ray knew what Tim was asking about- he didn't suppose he'd have much luck, but even so. The girl repeated the question to the others gathered around the tree, but they clearly answered in the negative, because Tim came back downhearted.

"We'll go on to the notice board," he suggested. "I was hoping they'd have something like that-" He dug into his pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out for Ray to see. Written on it was _Missing: Joseph Timothy Taylor. Goes by 'Joe'. In New York area, sixteen years of age. Please call. _Written at the bottom were a long list of phone numbers, and even a email address, although Ray couldn't see how that would help. And stuck to it with Sellotape was a photograph of a teenage boy with dark hair.

Ray nodded. "Okay. Well, that's good."

As they got further into the heart of the city, they passed more and more people. Eventually, Ray took to trying not to look at them- there was a woman with a bleeding stump for a arm leaning against a building with shattered windows; a teenage girl with a cut on her forehead holding a crying baby, a boy dragging something on a cart behind him- it was a dead body...

Ray suddenly realised Tim was no longer walking beside him. He turned around and saw him being sick against a wall.

"Tim!" he half-yelled, half-snapped. "What are you..." But he stopped there. Really, Tim's reaction was a pretty normal one- the only reason he himself wasn't throwing up was because he'd seen all this already.

That didn't make it any easier, though.

"Sorry," Tim muttered, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Sorry- it was the body that did me in."

"Doesn't matter." Ray searched his jacket pocket to find a tissue for him, but there weren't any. "Let's just keep going..."

So they kept going.

* * *

Half an hour later, they reached the noticeboard. There were many people gathered around it, most of them crying. Ray was relieved to see that _this _was where they all were- that the entire city wasn't dead- but he felt guilty for being even slightly happy.

Tim pushed his way towards it though the crowd. Ray followed him. The ground beneath his feet didn't feel quite right, and when he looked down he realised why: the floor was covered in pieces of card and paper. People had ripped them down to make more room on the noticeboard. They were half-buried under the mud, most of them barely readable anymore.

He dropped to his knees, and looked at them. He gathered up as many as would fit in his hands, and joined Tim at the board. Tim was not the only one there- other people were sticking up notices or scanning all the photos. There were _so many _pictures- young kids, old people, a woman holding baby twins- oh, it was depressing.

"There's nothing to stick it to the board with," Tim said. "No pins or anything."

He was right, of course. They hadn't thought of that.

"What's that you've got?" Tim asked.

"Never mind," Ray said, defeated. He left the pile of paper on the floor, dropped to his knees again, and started searching for a pin. With all the paper, there had to be one around somewhere. He found one when he put his hand on it.

"Ow," he muttered. He stood up and handed it to Tim, who accepted it gratefully and pinned his notice up. He pinned it right over another one, which read _Has anyone seen my husband?? 37 yrs old, would have been wearing a suit and a Disney tie. His name is James White. PLEASE CALL. _

"Well, that's done," Tim said.

"Yeah."

Ray looked at the pile of other notices. Who did they belong to- were the people who'd made them even alive any more? He'd come back for them, he resolved. He followed Tim back to the road.

* * *

After a few minutes of walking they found a shop that was open. However, since it appeared to be the _only _shop open, a small riot appeared to be going on inside it.

Ray backed away.

"Well, that doesn't matter," Tim said. "We can get into another shop- break a window, maybe."

Someone came staggering out- a short man carrying a crate of beer. He looked at them, gave them a grin, and ran for his life. Then another man burst out with a brick and threw it at him- it missed. It hit the ground with a _thud _and broke.

"I bet everyone else gets the same idea." Ray said, trying not to listen to the yelling. "We'd have to get a move on..."

Tim wandered down the street, and Ray had no real choice but to follow. They found a hairdresser's, an electronics store, a Borders and a clothes shop.

"Clothes," Ray remembered. "Let's get them first."

They went round the back and Ray tried the door, just in case. It was locked.

"Let's smash the window, then," he said. "Have you got a rock or something?"

Tim hunted around, and found a tile that had fallen off the roof.

"This'll do."

Ray took it, aimed, and threw it through the window. It left a hole wide enough to get a hand through.

"You'll have to stick your hand through now," Tim said, "and try and reach the latch."

Ray noticed he didn't volunteer to do it himself, but there was no real reason why he should. He carefully put his hand through the window, found the latch, and opened it from the inside. He was just able to fit through. He fell on the carpet on the other side. Tim performed slightly more elegantly.

"Okay, let's get out of here fast," he said.

Ray searched the stalls, wondering what Rachel might like. He realised he didn't actually know what sort of clothes she liked, but he wasn't going to ask Tim. He picked some pink T-shirts, black trousers, blue trousers, socks and a jacket- and that was all that would fit in the backpack. He ought to have brought more bags.

"Maybe," Tim said slowly, "we shouldn't bother picking clothes from here."

It took Ray only a second to work out what he meant. "No way," he said. "We didn't even see any on the ground. People must have been picking them up."

"You didn't see any, but I did. Hats and scarves and so on. At least some must have been in wearable condition."

Ray thought he was going to laugh. "I...look, _no_. Just not now, all right?"

Tim took a black jacket from on of the hangers. "I bet you thought that exact same thing while you were running. Aliens invade, but hey, free clothes."

"Shut up."

They continued their robbery in silence. Ray found a display of handbags at the back, and took one of those. He filled it with t-shirts for Robbie, and as many socks as he could find. No-one ever thought about socks. Tim just grabbed armfuls of whatever was on the shelves.

"Put some of this in one of your bags," he said curtly.

"Can't."

* * *

Five minutes later they exited the shop, arms full of all that they could carry. Ray wondered how they were going to get all that plus the food they needed home. They might have to leave some of it behind.

As they went through the door (it opened from the inside, if you kicked it a bit) and turned left, they suddenly saw that someone had been watching them. It was an old man, sitting on the concrete. Next to him and fast asleep was an equally old woman, probably his wife.

"Morning, gentlemen," the old man said. "So we're looting now, are we?"

Ray groaned inwardly. "You want any of this stuff?" he said, holding out the pile of shorts and trousers he was carrying. "We've got more than we need."

"No, thank you," the man said. "I believe God told the world it was a sin to steal."

Tim shook his head at him, and both of them turned around to go.

"Mark my words!" the man yelled after them. "Thou shalt not steal-"

_Thou shalt not kill, as well, _Ray thought. _This is peanuts by comparison.  
_

* * *

They found a Wallmart further down the road. Its roof had come off. In fact, only half of it looked as though it wouldn't collapse on you.

"Want to risk it?" Tim asked, and Ray had a moment of paranoia. Maybe Tim was trying to trap him. Not in the conventional way, the _you just took a stupid risk, you idiot, no wonder the kids don't want you for a father _sort of way.

"You think the stuff in there is safe to eat?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, just...you know...maybe they did something to the food. The red stuff, maybe it got into the food..." It was _possible_, after all.

"Shall we try somewhere that still has a roof, then?"

"Yeah, let's do that."

They carried on down the road. The place seemed to be getting more crowded. It must be people coming into the city, Ray figured. People in the same position as he and Rachel had been in a few days ago. He noticed the clothes now- there weren't many but there were some: a scarf hanging off a chain-link fence and a piece of a pair of jeans lying atop a immobile car. It was depressing. Ray made eye contact with no-one.

Walking against the crowd- for eventually it turned into a crowd- they ran across a man in army uniform.

"You can't go that way," he said.

"Why not?" Ray asked.

"Not in that direction. We're letting people in, but not out." The army guy didn't make eye contact either.

"_Why_?" Ray asked again.

"Because," the army guy said in a tired voice, "if you continue walking in that direction, you will come across a downed alien fighting machine responsible for the deaths of maybe a hundred thousand people. I doubt that's a sight you want to see, somehow."

"I've seen it already," Ray said angrily. "I was there when it fell!"

The man shrugged. "Tough. You'll have to go another way."

"So we can't leave the city?" Ray demanded.

"Look, I'm not supposed to answer questions."

Ray was almost ready to hit him, but Tim stepped in. "Well then- you wouldn't know where we could find a place to get food, would you? We'd rather not be stuck here to starve to death."

"Yeah," the man muttered, "try that way-" He pointed down a road they hadn't taken, and turned back to the small crowd walking past him- a woman was pulling at his shirt.

"C'mon," Tim muttered. They headed down the road. Neither of them bothered talking to the other. They passed rows and rows of houses, all of them seemingly empty. Maybe the people there had fled...

They found another Wallmart at the end of the road. People with tired faces were going in and out, but a glance through the windows showed that people were just taking what they could find. They probably didn't even know or care if the food it was edible or not.

Tim went through the broken doors without a word, and Ray followed. He didn't like following Tim around, but he had no choice- he hadn't even thought about what might happen if they got seperated.

"The freezers will have defrosted," Tim said thoughtfully. "So nothing there. I'll get some fruit and vegetables, you go and look for bottled water."

Ray literally ran towards where the water was kept: everyone who came into the shop would likely head there first. On the way he found a shopping cart- he threw some batteries, bananas and magazines into it as he shoved it down the aisles. After all, they might only get one shot at this- someone might decide to burn the shop to the ground tomorrow. He reached the shelves of bottled water and threw as many as he could into the cart. He didn't take all of them, it didn't seem fair. Besides, no-one would be back to restock the shelves.

He went to the freezer section just in case there was anything still there. There wasn't. There was only a girl at the other end, quickly going through her purchases. Her cart was full to bursting, mostly with clothes. She smiled when she saw him.

"I've always wanted to do this," she said brightly. "Go round a shop for hours and get everything in the cart for free." Then she wandered off without a backwards glance. Ray stared after her. Then he shook off the feeling of this-didn't-really-happen and headed for the breakfast cereal aisle. He was putting things in the trolley- chocolate coated corn flakes and the rest- when Tim caught up with him.

"Oh, so you didn't leave without me," he said. He tipped the bags of apples and tomatoes into the trolley, and nodded at the box of Frosted Flakes Ray was holding. "That's not the sort of shit you feed the kids, is it?"

And of course, he was choosing survival rations with a health food nut. "No, I get decent food for _my _kids. This is for me."

"But inevitably they'll eat it anyway, because you don't know what they like."

"Look, does it really matter? It's food."

"Do you know how lucky we are that we're not fighting at knifepoint to get this? We could at least get the decent stuff."

That made sense, in a way. And was a positively terrifying thought. "Fine," Ray muttered. "_Fine._" He put the Frosted Flakes back on the shelf and gave Tim a angry look. It occured to him that were anyone else in the vicinity, he or she would have taken them for a pair of childish assholes.

They continued on in silence. Ray went past the freezer aisle girl on the way to the doors- she was taking all the canned peaches from the shelves with a wide grin plastered on her face. No-one was looking at her.

They pushed the trolley down the street. They put the clothes in there, as well. Ray went through the shopping list he'd written in his head. Clothes, food, water...perhaps that was all they needed.

"Underwear," Tim suddenly said, out of the blue.

"What?"

"Underwear. I bet you didn't get underwear, back at the clothes store. People _need _underwear."

"I got some socks," Ray said hopelessly.

"Yeah, but what about the rest of it?"

They went back to the clothes shop, because it was nearest. The man and his wife had gone. They went back through the still-open door, threw what they needed into their shopping cart, and went out again. They were facing the electronics shop, and Tim suddenly grabbed Ray's arm.

"Clockwork radios!"

"What?"

"Clockwork radios, in that window. Hold on a second."

He found another stone, held it in his hand, and smashed the window up. Then he put his hand through, and took one of the radios.

"See if it works, first," Ray said, determined to contribute something useful. Tim wound it up- it seemed to take forever- and they both listened with baited breath. Nothing happened. For almost a whole minute Tim pressed the buttons and turned the dials, and suddenly a crackling voice came from the tiny machine.

"_...citizens are advised to STAY WHERE THEY ARE. Information on loved ones who are missing can be obtained from the information offices being set up around the country. Patience is vital..."_

Ray grinned widely. Tim almost did the same.

"_...the alien menace may not yet be eradicated. Citizens must be on their guard. Stay in stable buildings, with other people if possible..."_

They listened until the end. It said all the things one would expect the government to say after an alien invasion- i.e., nothing remotely useful that they didn't already know. The guy doing the talking sounded calm and reasonable. Ray wondered if maybe, in every major government's headquarters, they had pre-recorded messages just in _case _this sort of thing happened. Because if aliens actually _did _invade (like they had), they'd need a message to play to the terrified citizens, especially if all the important people were dead.

It was a strange thought, but he figured that by this point he ought to be allowed strange thoughts. The message repeated a couple of times, and then the radio stopped. Tim hid it underneath the clothes in the shopping cart.

"Better not let anyone know we've got this," he said.

They ran home. No-one stopped them, or even demanded to know where they'd got their food. More of the shops were being broken into now. There was shattered glass almost everywhere you looked.

As they walked down their street, Ray could see Rachel and Robbie staring out from one of the upstairs windows. He waved. They waved back and then vanished.

As soon as they reached the front door, it opened. All the remaining members of the household were standing there.

"Whoa," Robbie said, seeing the cart. "You stole _all that_?"

"Come and give us a hand, Robbie," Tim said, taking some of the clothes out and handing them to him. "We need to get this lot inside."

"Why? Is someone looking? What did you have to do to get all that?" He sounded worried.

"Nothing, Robbie, we just walked in and took it," Ray said in what he hoped was a reassuring sort of tone.

"Where did you go?" Anna asked.

"Let's go _inside_, everyone," Maryann said firmly. They half-dragged, half-lifted the cart into the hall, and closed the door.

They sorted out the clothes into piles for everyone, and suddenly Rachel said, with her arms full of socks, "But don't ever do that again."

Ray and Tim glanced at each other.

"It's safe to leave," Tim said gently. "We saw lots of people- soldiers and everything-"

"What if you hadn't come back?" Rachel said accusingly. "Someone might have killed you for the food."

"No," Ray said hastily, "it's practically lying around out there. Don't worry, Rachel-"

"Just don't. Do. That. Again," she said in an adult voice, and she went upstairs with her new clothes. Ray got up to go after her, but Maryann held him back, shaking her head.

"She was a bit upset," Robbie said. He didn't look too happy himself. "When she found that note..."

"Note?" Tim said. "You left them a note?"

"Yeah, but I..."

"No wonder you scared the hell out of her, then."

"Look," Maryann said tiredly. "Be quiet, both of you. Ray, go and take your own clothes upstairs. Tim, Mom, Dad- help me put all the food away."

Ray raced upstairs and found Rachel in her bedroom. She was holding the note in her hands, her back facing the door. She spun around on the bed when he came in.

"You should have told us," she said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Rach-"

"You have to take us with you next time."

"Rachel, we're fine out there, nothing happened- and I even brought a knife, two knives, just in case, you see?" He took one of them out of his pocket. It looked tiny in his hands.

"You see?" Rachel said, looking close to tears. "I don't think you ought to kill people, either, so you...you see? You shouldn't go out." She started crying. Ray, with great difficulty, turned half of his emotions off.

"Rachel-" He put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not going to do that again. Okay? Not ever." But her expression struck fear into his heart: she didn't quite believe him, and she never would. Who, after all, would like to know without a doubt that their father was capable of murder?

"I _promise_," he said.

She just nodded.


	5. Thunder and Lightening

**Survival**  
_5. Thunder and Lightning_

He put the knives away when he went downstairs. Right in the back of the cutlery drawer. Maryann was putting the fruit away in the fruit basket.

"Tim says he put a notice up for Joe," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm going to make one for Miriam." Ray actually had to think for a second about who Miriam was: that was pretty awful.

"Yeah," he said. "Okay."

"Maybe I could go out tomorrow," she said warily. "If...if you're _sure _it's safe. I could go and ask about her..."

"I don't know what good asking will do," Ray said, as gently as he could. "Not round here. There's...you know..._everyone's _looking for someone."

"Yes," Maryann said, in a devastated sort of tone. "Have you heard anything about your brother?"

Oh god, he'd barely _thought _about him.

"I'll make a notice," he muttered. "Got no photos, though."

"They're beginning to get the cars working, I _think_," Maryann said. "We might be able to go...you know, around."

Ray nodded, and then Tim walked in with the clockwork radio.

"Shall we look at this, then?" he said.

* * *

They gathered in the front room. Tim wound up the radio and placed it on the table in a solemn manner. The message that was presumably from the government came on. They listened to it, and then they listened to it again.

"Can you get anything else?" Robbie asked. Anna was crying.

"Let's see." Ray played with the controls for a few minutes. Occasionally he got a small crackle of sound or a snippet of a voice, but nothing useful. Tim also had a go, and so did Maryann, but they had no luck.

"Well," Tim said, "We'll try it again, later." He put it on top of the bookcase, and there it remained.

* * *

Making supper was difficult. They cooked a tin of baked beans on the gas oven, and made some waffles. They had decided to ration the food, although he secretly doubted that they wouldn't dare venture outside again. They couldn't stay in the house for weeks on end, they might end up killing each other.

Well, perhaps not.

And then it was bedtime. Ray went upstairs to say goodnight to the kids, and heard voices from the other side of their bedroom door. They were talking. Well, nothing wrong with that, obviously-

"I thought you were _dead_."

Ray stopped and shuffled quietly to the door. He should have guessed that he'd hear something like this sooner or later.

"I'm sorry," Robbie said.

"Or _we _could have died," Rachel said accusingly. "You could have gotten home and waited and we'd never have come back!"

"I thought that _was_ going to happen." He sounded close to tears.

"I didn't mean...it's just..."

Ray opened the door. Both of them spun around at the noise, instantly quiet. And it remained quiet, because Ray could think of nothing good to say. Both of his children looked so _different_, it was scary.

"Say something," Rachel demanded.

"Ummm. Maybe we should all discuss this in the morning."

"No-" Robbie said. "I'm sorry...tell her I'm sorry..."

Ray looked at both of them. "Tell her yourself. You can say it better," he said to Robbie, and to Rachel, "Rachel- people do weird things during disasters, alright? He...you know, he didn't..." He trailed, predictably, off. "We're all still alive."

"I noticed," Robbie said miserably.

"Well, there's something to be grateful for. I'll see you in the morning, okay..."

He went to bed.

* * *

Ray fell asleep almost instantly. The long overdue nightmares crashed in.

_I thought that _was _going to happen..._

He could see it all now, the house through a haze, the helicopter crashing in the garden killing all aboard, Robbie watching through the window.

_They're not coming back, are they, I just ran off and left them, I ran off and left my ten year old sister..._

It must have been awful, knowing they'd killed the others and you'd be next, they were coming...any minute the house would fall on you, or you'd burst into flames as the windows broke...

Had none of them thought there might be a chance he'd get her back home?

_I'm sorry...tell her I'm sorry..._

There was a loud noise.

He woke up.

He stayed exactly where he was for a few seconds, not moving a muscle, thoroughly terrified. Then he realised- it was a storm.

Oh god.

He pulled himself off the sofa and went to the window. He waited for the lightening, it struck nearby-

There was the noise of someone coming down the stairs. It was the middle of the night and Ray could only guess at where the door was: he opened it and Rachel literally ran into the room.

"I'm scared," she said. She was almost crying.

_You're not the only one. _"It's just a normal storm," Ray said reassuringly. "It'll be over in a minute..."

There were more footsteps. It was Robbie, this time. "What's going on?" he said. "It's not..." He looked terrified as well.

"No, it's not," Ray said. "You'll be alright. Just wait til the morning."

They waited. The lightening struck again, further away this time. Ray breathed a sigh of relief. Rachel shuddered.

"I thought..." she said, struggling to say the words, "I thought it was..."

"I know." He put his arms around her.

"I'm going to go back to bed, then..."

"Okay."

Robbie took Rachel's hand and they went up the stairs. Ray noted this with another feeling of relief. Then he returned to the sofa- he didn't sleep again for hours.

* * *

When he woke up it was almost eleven o' clock. He went out of the living room, and the front door was open. He stared at it for a minute.

"There was a bit of commotion going on down the road." Gerald said, walking up behind him. "Tim went to see what was up. Do you want some breakfast?"

"Um...no thanks," Ray said. "I'll just...go after Tim." His mind was spinning: what was going on now? What if- oh god, what if it had just been a different sort of one of the freaky storms, what if they _had _come back after all, what if at this very moment it was starting again...

He knew it was stupid, but he ran outside anyway. Curiousity was often the entire world's downfall, after all. He saw the small group of people, and realised someone was running along just behind him. He stopped. It was Robbie.

"Robbie, you're supposed to be eating your breakfast."

"Well, so are you."

"Well, yeah." But he was worried.

They joined Tim up ahead. He was leaning against the wall of the house the few curious people had gathered outside. He was slightly white.

"What happened?" Ray asked. "What's with..." Then he realised what house this was.

"The old woman shot herself when she heard the storm," Tim said wearily. "You remember- the ungrateful bitch? She's dead. And she's still in there."

Ray instantly felt like he was about to throw up. "Isn't someone going to get her out of there?"

"Who?"

"Us?"

But they didn't.


	6. Ghost Story

**

* * *

**

Survival

_6. Ghost Story_

Later that day Ray ventured out to the house again- he made sure Rachel wasn't looking when he left. There was no-one at all gathered in the street now. He stood looking up at the windows.

Maybe she was gone, now. Maybe someone else _had _taken her away.

He would never know why he'd done it, but he tried the door. It was open. He walked inside like it was his own house- walked through the lobby with the coats still hanging up, walked up the stairs...

It looked like any other house.

One of the doors upstairs was shut. If she had killed herself, she might have closed the door first. Or maybe not. He had never had occasion to think about things like that before.

_That ungrateful old bitch._

He was searching a empty house for the body of a woman he didn't know. How utterly creepy. Her ghost ought to have jumped out at him by now...

He turned the door handle quickly, and the door opened. He took in the old woman's bedroom. It was mostly green- green wallpaper, green carpet. And it was untidy, there were clothes on the floor, an overturned chair, a gun...

He was looking at a dead body. A dead body on the bed, staring at him with angry eyes. Maybe she'd died just to make him feel even more guilty, or maybe the world didn't revolve around him.

Utterly terrified now, he slammed the door, raced down the stairs, and collided with something. Something very solid, and wearing pitch black. The ghost.

Ghosts didn't exist. But then again, aliens didn't exist either.

The Something grabbed his arm, so he screamed. And he kicked out as well, and tried to run, and couldn't.

"Ray, it's only me," Tim said.

Ray stopped dead. He looked up- it was indeed Tim. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and trousers, and was looking down at him in a half-frightened, half-annoyed way. Ray's first emotion, unsurprisingly, was utter embarrassment.

"She's still upstairs," he managed to say, as Tim let go of him. "No-one came after all..."

"Well, I didn't expect them to," Tim said, and went towards the door.

"We shouldn't leave her there."

"It's _one person_, Ray. Besides, where would we take her? I'd rather not walk down the road carrying a dead body, if that's all right."

"But..."

"Come on. Before the kids notice we're gone."

They hurried out of the house and down the street. They slid into the house and went to the living room, where Maryann was. She was reading a book. She looked up when they entered, and put the book down gratefully.

"You found him, then?" she asked Tim. "What was he _doing_?"

"Hey-" Ray spoke up; he hated being spoken about like he wasn't there, "I went to that house down the road, where the old lady shot herself. She's still there- her body, I mean, no-one even moved her..."

"Where could they move her?" Maryann asked. "If I was going to guess, I'd say they were probably just dumping the bodies anywhere they can. Dumping whole piles of them into the sea, maybe. They'll want to clean up fast."

Ray shuddered. Tim shuddered as well, and then he sunk to the floor.

"Oh, Tim," Maryann said softly, "you'll find him, I'm sure of it..."

"No," Tim said, standing back up again as quickly as possible. "I don't want to hope for something that's probably not true."

"No, it's possible, more people survived than we know..._we _survived, there's no reason he shouldn't..."

Ray, grateful that nothing had been made of his panic attack, left the room.

* * *

That evening he sat in the living room, playing on a battery-powered games console. There were few things to do in the house to entertain yourself: only board games, magazines, books...well, few things to entertain _him_, anyway. He didn't read much.

Maryann came in, holding a book. She sat next to him.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," he answered. He figured starting a conversation might relieve the boredom, so he said, "Any good?" He pointed to her book.

She nodded. "Yeah." And then. "But I'm not sure I can relate to any stories any more. Just...because." She put the book on the floor, and lay back on the sofa. She looked rather shattered, actually, now he thought about it.

"Thank you," she said all of a sudden. "I said it before, but it deserves to be said again. Thank you so much."

"Oh. Ur," he said stupidly.

"I keep thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't brought her back," she went on. "I'd just...I don't know. I think I'd have lost all hope, like Tim..."

Ray nodded.

"When Robbie came back and said he didn't know what had happened to you..." She swallowed. "Still. We're here."

"Yeah." That appeared to be the be-all and end-all of everything at the moment: _we're alive, we're here, we survived_. And so on.

Maryann picked up her book again and read a couple of pages, but then she suddenly lowered it, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, I saw at least two cars pass the house today," she said. "I don't know how they're fixing them..."

"Hey!" He realised his sudden enthusiasm seemed to jar a little, so he turned it down. "I can get the cars started again- that was how come we got out of the city so fast. If you let me look at your car- Tim's car- I'll fix it for you. Or your parent's car."

"Mom and Dad don't have a car anymore," Maryann said. "And me and Tim lost our car on the way here."

"How?"

"How do you think?"

* * *

They had a proper dinner that night: chicken and potatoes. Maryann's parents had spent the evening making it. The chicken had been kept cold by being kept outside the back door- Ray was amazed that anyone went anywhere near the back garden considering what was out there.

Everyone sat around the dinner table, Ray inbetween Rachel and Tim. He wasn't really hungry, although he felt like he probably should be. No-one else looked all that hungry, either.

"We haven't said grace for a long time," Gerald said, glancing around the table. "I think it's about time we did."

"Grace," Robbie said automatically.

"_Robbie_," said Ray, Maryann and Tim all at once.

"As I was saying," Gerald went on, "we have a lot to be thankful for."

That was true. So they had a moment of silence, if not prayer.

* * *

Dinner time passed slowly. Rachel picked at her food, and eventually gave up and pushed her plate away.

"Eat up, honey," Maryann said. "You need it."

Rachel shook her head. "I don't want to eat _chicken_."

"Oh, Rachel-"

"No."

Alien invasion side effects: vegetarianism. "Maybe just eat the vegetables, Rachel?" Ray suggested.

"I feel sick."

She remained at the table, but didn't eat another thing.

* * *

A week later they were coming close to running out of food.

"We'll have to go out again," Maryann said. Everyone in the house, excepting Gerald and Anna, were gathered in the kitchen. Rachel was wearing one of the pink t-shirts Ray had brought back.

"Not you," Ray told her. "You're..."

"Look, I _know_. But according to you it's safe, and...look, do you know how it feels to sit there worrying for hours on end? I'd rather come."

Ray decided to let Tim handle this one- he was the woman's husband, after all. "Kids?" he said, turning to them. "I swear I'll be okay- we're only going to the shops. Will you stay here, and be good? Rachel?"

"I'm not staying," Rachel said.

Ray looked at her hopelessly. "I don't want you to come. It's safe here..."

"Oh," she said. "So it's not safe out there then."

Beaten by a ten-year-old. "You need to stay here with your mother...how will she feel if she's not sure you're safe?"

"I'm going," Maryann said.

Ray looked at her, looked at Tim, and looked at Rachel. Then he looked at Robbie, who shrugged.

"If we _all _go..." he said.

What was this supposed to be? _Family Outings At The End Of The World_? He decided to appeal to Tim, much as he didn't want to. "I think it would be better if it was just one person. Or two at the most."

"That's just stupid," Tim said.

"Don't be an asshole, I'm not having the kids wandering about out..."

"I'm not staying," Rachel said again.

"Me neither," Robbie said.

Ray knew when he was beaten. "Alright. Fine. But you two have to stay in sight at all times. Even you, Robbie." _Especially you, Robbie, _he added to himself. "Maryann, d'you _have _to come?"

"You can't stop Mom from coming," Rachel piped up.

"Why not?"

"It's sexist."

Maryann raised an eyebrow. Ray was most definately beaten.

* * *

So they left as soon as possible. Maryann's parents made a half-hearted attempt to get her to stay, but they knew there wasn't much point. Her mind was made up. Ray couldn't help remember, as they walked out of the door waving goodbye, exactly how come he'd married her in the first place. Although he knew he'd soon forget again.

They headed towards the shops, following Tim's lead, mostly. Robbie and Rachel were looking around at everything, their mouths open. It had to be a strange new world, to them.

At one point, Robbie did indeed drift out of sight. Ray nearly had a heart attack, then he turned around and saw him kneeling on the ground picking something up.

"Robbie, what is it?"

Robbie ran to catch up. He was holding a scarf in his hands, which were shaking. "Look," he said. "I saw someone wearing this, when I was on the road to Boston..."

Ray looked at it. "It's probably not the same scarf," he said. "Throw it away."

"Let's see," Rachel said. She tried to take it off him. "Was it on the floor?"

"Yeah," both Robbie and Ray said at once.

"I keep seeing those things..." she said shakily. "Look over there...there's a pair of pants..."

They looked- Tim and Maryann looked as well. A pair of jeans was lying abandoned by a wall, the dying red weed making a bed for it.

"Shouldn't..." Maryann swallowed. "Shouldn't someone pick them all up?"

"I'm sure someone will, eventually," Tim said.

As they approached the supermarket, Ray got a bad feeling. No-one was coming out, for starters. And there seemed to be someone at the door...someone holding something...

They reached the doors and Ray's fears were realised. It was a soldier- a man of around thirty- dressed in uniform and holding a gun.

Everyone looked at each other. Rachel started to whimper; Ray picked her up out of instinct. Tim observed this, and marched up to the soldier.

"Excuse me, sir-"

"You can't go in."

"Pardon?"

"I'm under orders. No one can enter. You'll have to go elsewhere. Sorry."

"Look, we have children to feed-"

"Many people do. I'm sorry, you'll have to leave."

Tim gave the man what was clearly an extremelyforced smile and went back to the others. They walked off. Ray felt like making an obscene gesture or two, and would have done if he hadn't been holding Rachel.

"It's not fair," Robbie said bitterly. Ray was certain that he would follow that up with _"I ought to go back there and beat the crap out of him," _but he didn't.

"We'll go somewhere else," Maryann said rationally. And then, "What a bunch of complete idiots. If they think they can preserve food just by guarding the supermarkets..."

Not far away from the clothes shop, they found a small store that sold candy bars. They also noted, on walking past it, that the clothes shop was looking worse for wear: all the windows were shattered and all the clothes had gone.

The candy shop wasn't looking too good either. Someone had been there before them- not surprising, really. However, they had been considerate and not taken every last bit. They gathered some of it up.

"So I suppose it's all chocolate from now on," Tim said grumpily.

"How _are _you gonna survive?" Ray retorted.

After that, they headed for the Wallmart again. Maryann was convinced it would be open. It certainly _looked _open...

It was.

The man guarding the door had been shot several times- he was lying in a pool of blood with his eyes open. From inside the supermarket they could hear yelling, screaming, and things being thrown.

"Oh, we're screwed." Robbie said under his breath. Rachel, who had been staring at the dead man, started screaming. _She's seen too much of this_, Ray thought bleakly. Rachel buried her face in his arm.

"It's all right, Rachel," Tim said gently. "We'll go somewhere else."

"Yes," Maryann said firmly. "Let's."

They walked off as quickly as they could, Ray carrying Rachel once again. They went in the direction of the house- Ray supposed they'd given up all hope.

They passed an office block. Tim stopped in the middle of the road.

"Hold on a second- get a rock or something, someone..."

Robbie handed him a rock. Tim smashed the glass of the office door and cleared it away, and Ray saw why- there was a vending machine in the lobby. Clever.

Tim climbed through the doors, went to the machine, and smashed that up as well. He took its contents out- candy, chips, and cans of coke- and passed them through the broken doors to the others.

"Hold on," he said. "I'll see if there's any more of these."

He vanished down the nearest corridor. He was gone for almost five minutes- during which Rachel began to look scared again- then he returned holding a container of water.

"From the water cooler," he said with a note of pride. "Hold on to that. I'll see if they've got anyhting else around."

As they waited, Ray looked around. There were a couple of people staring curiously at them. Ray hoped staring curiously was all they were going to do. The other people milling around weren't looking at them.

What if someone ran up to him right now with a gun, and demanded they hand over the water? He hadn't brought a knife with him, after all. Not today.

Tim returned, pale-faced.

"There's people round the other side, breaking in," he said quickly. "One of them had a gun- let's go, _quickly_."

Rachel began to whimper quietly. They all hurried away from the building, and down another road- and then Ray heard someone behind them. Someone running. He whipped round.

It was the couple who had been watching them- they had given chase.

"What is it?" he demanded. "What d'ya want?"

"Can we...might I ask...can we have some of that?" one of them asked nervously. She was a blonde girl, only about twenty or so. She had the same exhausted look that everyone else had.

"Okay," Ray said, at the same time Tim said, "I don't know."

"Please?" she begged.

"Oh, go on-" Maryann said. She grabbed several of the candy bars from Tim, and handed them over. Both people smiled gratefully, gave their thanks, and moved on.

"I don't know if that was a great idea," Tim said. "This is _our _food, _we _went to the trouble of getting it..."

"But it's only junk," Ray said sneeringly.

"That's enough," said Maryann.

"We're not gonna be able to feed_ everyone_," Robbie said worriedly.


	7. Them

**Survival**  
_7. Them_

On the way back, they passed the bulletin board. It was a hopeless mess: bits of paper and photograph were blowing around it like leaves. There were only a few people reading the posters, and none of them looked optimistic.

"Wait," Maryann said, "I need to go and..."

She took the poster she had made for her sister, folded neatly up, out of her pocket. She also had a box of pins: she took one out and stuck the poster firmly to the wall.

Ray looked at the photograph Maryann had chosen. A smiling woman with blonde hair, sitting on a sofa in her house. Cheerful, sucessful, almost certainly dead.

Maryann and Miriam, Ray and Richard...

_I think matching sibling names are sweet_, Maryann said a long time ago. _If it's a girl we'll call her Rachel, how about it?_

He hadn't made a poster for Richard. He'd forgotten. God, that was stupid beyond all reason. He had to have thought about it- thought about it and assumed there was no point...

He then saw something out of the corner of his eye: a table. The table was standing there all on it's own, loaded with pens and paper and tape. Something for the people who'd wandered in from miles away, worried for their loved ones and not carrying pens or paper. He wondered who'd put it there, and where in the world they were now.

"Are you going to make a poster for your brother?" Maryann asked him.

"He's probably dead," Ray said. "I don't want to waste the paper, someone else will probably want it..."

"It's there to use," Tim said. "Use it."

Ray wandered to the table, picked up a piece of paper and a pen, and thought about what to write. _Richard Ferrier and family, in Montreal area, if seen please report. _He wrote the house's phone number- not that it would do much good if the phones weren't working- and stuck it to the board.

Tim was scanning the board for the poster of Joseph. He found it hidden behind another one, and brought it to the front.

"Well," he said. "I guess we're done here. We'd better go."

* * *

Most everyone was silent as they walked home.

"I hope Mom and Dad didn't go out anywhere, at all," Maryann said quietly. "Not that they'd have reason to, but..."

"I'm sure they're fine," Tim said.

As they turned the corner that would put them on the road to home, Ray noticed a group of people down the other end of the road, running as fast as they could. And there was screaming on the wind- he could hear it. He fiercely ignored it, it was nothing, people ran all the time...

"What's going on over there?" Rachel asked in a quavering tone.

"Nothing, honey- it's nothing," Ray said. He picked her up again, and Maryann took Robbie's arm.

"Mom, let go of me," Robbie said.

"Maryann," Ray said, "don't even think about letting go of him."

A group of teenagers who had been sitting nearby against a wall rose to their feet, one by one. "What's goin' on?" one of them yelled.

"Nothing," Tim called, as Robbie wrenched himself away from his mother. "I mean, I don't know..."

One of the runners, screaming like a mad thing, tore past them. Ray handed Rachel over to Tim, just for a second, and reached out and blocked his path, grabbing his shoulders.

"_Let the fuck go, man_!" the guy said hysterically. "_They're coming_!"

The atmosphere around them changed from apprehension to utter terror. The teenagers scattered, the other random groups of people dotted around began to run as well- screaming and praying and shouting to whoever might hear- but Ray stayed rooted to the spot.

"The aliens? _Them_?"

"_Who the fuck do you think_?" The man wrestled free, and ran.

Robbie was the one who grabbed Ray's arm.

"Run," he said urgently. "RUN!"

The others- Rachel still in Tim's arms, the water cooler having been dropped- were already on their way. Ray charged to keep up, Robbie right behind him.

"Give Rachel to me," he said.

"_Shut up_!"

Rachel began crying.

"I'm her father, give her to me!"

"Stop it!" Maryann yelled. She was running the fastest, the water cooler in her hands. "We need to get back to the house!"

"The house is the other way!"

They ran past a man in army uniform- he and some others were gathered around a truck. Ray didn't give him a thought, but then there was a gunshot noise- he was firing into the air.

"Keep calm!" he was shouting. "Proceed in an orderly fashion-"

Someone hurled a brick at him.

All of them continued to run. More gunshots came, and there was a scream. Ray didn't look back- he could only keep his eye on the others. They had to stay together this time around. _This time around_, oh God- he couldn't do it again.

"Where are we going?" Robbie yelled.

"Anywhere!" Tim shouted. "Just anywhere."

More soldiers were making their way amongst the crowd. And it was definately a crowd now: a huge mass of terrified people, just like the one at the ferry all that time ago. Ray took Robbie by the arm: he was shaking and didn't complain.

"Give Rachel to me," Ray hissed to Tim. "Please."

"She's fine here."

Rachel was sobbing, her head on Tim's shoulder.

"I don't want it to happen again! I _want to go home_!"

The crowd was slowing down- they were still moving fast, but they weren't running.

"It's just a false alarm!" one of the soliders shouted. "Everyone please keep calm, we're going to move you all out of here-"

"You hear that, Rachel?" Ray said, shifting over to her and stroking her hair. "It's okay." He felt so relieved he thought he might faint: it had only been a few people panicking that had elevated them to this. Of course false alarms were going to happen. It was incredibly obvious now he thought about it. "It's only a false alarm, Rachel-"

And then the noise came.


	8. Celeste

**Survival**  
_8. Celeste_

There was utter, utter panic.

Maryann screamed, and half the crowd screamed with her. Someone ran straight into Ray, and staggered off. The screaming was in his ears, and the whole world seemed to flash and flicker.

The noise came again, quieter this time. Ray suddenly found Rachel in his arms: Tim had handed her over. And Robbie was holding onto her as well, trying to calm her down.

"Rachel, it's okay. This is the last one, see, Rachel? The rest are all dead. They died of something. And soon this one is gonna die as well. We just have to avoid it, okay, Rachel?"

They were moving. They were moving very fast. Ray was following Tim, they were winding their way through the crowds...

"It's okay, Rachel, it's going to die, it's not going to hurt anyone..."

Tim was holding Maryann's hand, up ahead. Then he grabbed Robbie's hand- they were forming a sort of human chain. They scrambled towards the nearest building, a church- other people were with them, fighting along blindly-

Ray turned his head, just for a second, and there it was, towering high above them. It was making no noise. He suddenly knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that they were going to be all right, because he wasn't going to have it any other way.

_I blew one of you right up!_

He threw his head back, while still running, and looked at the sky. It was bright blue and cloudy, just like a normal day. Just like any day. The sky was still there.

_They were going to live. _Or he'd die trying.

They charged in through the open doors of the church.

"Oh God," Robbie said. "Oh God- what makes you think we're gonna be all right in here?"

"You _are _gonna be all right. Don't forget that," Ray said fiercely. He turned his attention to the inside of the church- there were rows and rows of candles along the sides. Ray wondered, not especially idly, how much room would be taken up if someone attempted to light a candle for every single person who had died.

Rachel was still crying. Ray went to one of the pews, and put her down.

"Rachel, we're safe here."

"_We're never safe_!"

The door creaked open and several more people fell through- maybe about seven altogether, all of them in hysterics. That made about thirty people in the church altogether- Tim appeared to be quietly counting them.

"We ought to shut the doors," he said. "If everyone out there comes in here, they'll crush us."

He moved towards the doors, but Maryann held him back.

"Don't you dare," she said in a low voice.

Tim stared at her befuddled. "What d'ya-"

_BOOM._

The church quite literally shook at the sound. Some people screamed, others covered their eyes, others sunk to the ground. Maryann let go of her husband just as the door opened again- it was a woman this time, with a teenage boy by her side. She staggered towards the pews and sat down next to Rachel, who moved away.

Ray went towards her.

"It'll never end," the woman said shakily. "It'll never end."

"Mom-" the teenager said.

There was a creaking sound as Tim, accompanied by a couple of other men, closed the doors and locked them. Out of the corner of his eye Ray saw Maryann run right up to her husband, and try to force him away.

"_Don't_!" she was shrieking. "_There's hundreds of other people out there_!"

"And hundreds of other buildings," one of the men said, and Tim nodded his agreement. Maryann turned away from them, and walked towards Ray- he had no idea what to say.

"I think they must have brought it down," he tried, "and that was the noise we just heard."

She said nothing, just sat down.

Robbie sat down next to Rachel, inbetween her and the shaking woman. Rachel herself was shaking a little.

"Rachel, remember what I told you? he said. "This is your space-"

"That doesn't work anymore," Rachel said flatly.

Ray looked around. He noticed a door opposite the altar. He went over to have a look. It was the church crehe- a small pile of toys and board games were stuffed in the corner. There were Disney posters on the walls.

He felt somewhat depressed all of a sudden.

He picked up a stuffed horse for Rachel and gathered up the books sitting on the windowsill, and went back to the others. Rachel was leaning over her seat watching him.

"Here, Rach, I found this for you."

She took it. "Thank you," she said. "But I can't keep it. That's stealing."

"Well, you can keep him for now." He wondered how long they'd be in here. Maybe it was worth looking outside. Unfortunately, the only windows in the room were stained glass and elaborately decorated- pretty, but not very useful right now. He saw another door and went over there, and found himself in what appeared to be a sort of cafeteria. He glanced out of the window: it lead right to the street but he could see nothing. Not a soul.

It was creepy.

He turned back from the window- and the woman was standing there. He jumped.

"Is there anyone out there?" she said in a dead voice.

"No," he answered. "There's no-one."

He went back to the others. They were sitting together: Maryann, Tim, Robbie and Rachel. Rachel was hugging her horse, Robbie was doing nothing. He sat with them, and the woman sat with her son.

"I hope my parents are all right," Maryann said.

"What?"

"I hope my parents are all right."

"Oh. Ur, I'm sure they are."

"How do you know, Ray?"

He was sure she was only doing this-acting needfully towards him- in order to anger Tim. But he didn't really care that much. "I just know. They're going to be fine. We all are."

She nodded.

And suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. He turned around- it was her again. The woman.

"We might as well introduce ourselves," she said in a slow voice. "I'm Celeste."

She stuck out her hand. Ray stared at it.

"Ray," he said. "This is Robbie, and Rachel, and Maryann...ur, and Tim."

"This is Matt," Celeste said, gesturing to the teenage boy. "My son."

Matt gave them a look.

"It's nice to meet you," Ray said to them, unable to think of anything else.

* * *

Almost an hour later, they were still hiding in the church. No-one had opened the door yet- they seemed content to sit in here for ever.

Rachel and Robbie were reading the books Ray had found. Maryann and Tim were having a quiet conversation in a corner. Matt was asleep.

Celeste was talking. Ray didn't want to listen- not because he wasn't interested, but because he could hardly bear to.

"When we set out, it was me and Matt and Jessica, my daughter. Twelve years old. We were going to find their father. Got as far as here- we came out of a tunnel right in front of one of those things. And she was turned to dust right away."

Ray thought he might be sick.

"We got dragged to one of the camps...we're still there now. There's food every day...they were charging for it at first...now they don't..." She was drifting away. "I don't know what happened to Robert...that's their father...he's probably dead too..."

Ray drew his knees up to his chin. This was the most awful story he'd ever heard- and to think that only about a month ago it would have been dismissed as the most far-fetched of science fiction. He felt so sorry for her that he almost felt guilty for having come through the whole thing with most of his family still intact. Almost.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Everyone is," she answered.

* * *

They decided to stay there the whole night. Exactly _who _decided, Ray wasn't sure. But that was what they ended up doing- everyone stayed, except for one small group, who went outside, announced that the coast appeared to be clear, and disappeared into the night.

There were cushions in the crehe- Robbie and Rachel went to sleep in there, along with Maryann and Tim and some of the others. Celeste lay down on one of the pews, her head on one of the prayer mats. Matt was on the one behind, fast asleep.

Ray was heading to the crehe room with some blankets he'd found in a cupboard, when he heard singing. It was Celeste- she was leaning over the side of her pew and singing a lullaby to Matt.

Ray's first thought was, _He's a little old for that_.

Then he sunk onto an available seat, and listened. No-one else was really awake, and those who were didn't care, so there was no sound except for the singing. It echoed through the halls, like a prayer that had no answer. It had a hopeless feel to it.

He joined in.

Celeste didn't even look up- she made no comment and no complaint. She simply finished, ran a finger down Matt's face, and stood up.

Ray held out one of the blankets. "Here," he said quietly. "Got this for you." He then remembered Matt. "And have one for him, as well." That left him with four- if everyone else was going to have one, he'd have to go without.

"Thank you," Celeste said.

They looked at each other. Then Ray managed to smile a little, and went back to be with the kids.

* * *

Morning came. Ray actually woke up to the sound of birds singing: something that hadn't happened in ages. He then realised he had a blanket on him.

He sat up. Rachel and Robbie were still asleep next to him, on the cushions and the beanbags. Maryann was to his left, using a teddybear as a pillow. Tim was...

Tim appeared to be awake. He was looking down at him, a slight smile on his face.

"Well, it appears to be over," he said pleasantly. "People are leaving."

Ray pulled himself to his feet. He glanced around the room again, and then suddenly remembered Celeste. He headed for the door. "Back in a second," he said, and went to find her.

* * *

She was still asleep. He walked over to her and shook her shoulder gently.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, Celeste, wake up-"

"Jessica," she murmured.

He shook his head frantically. "It's me, Ray- remember me?"

"Ray?" She looked up tiredly, saw him, and looked maybe a little disappointed. Which was pretty bloody understandable. "Hello. Are they...did they go, after all?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they've gone."

She sat up, slowly.

"Where will you be going?" Ray asked. "If you've got nowhere to go, you can come with me and my family- we've got a big house, and there's room for two more people, I think-"

She looked at him thoughtfully, and then said, "I...no. No thank you."

"But-"

"I can't," she said sadly. "We're fine at the camp, though. Food and everything."

"We have food."

"I'm sorry, Ray." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have left the camp in the first place, really- we were just having a look around, in case Robert was anywhere- we can't stop looking-"

"I think it'd be safer, Celeste-"

"Ray, nobody is safe," she said.

And how could you not agree with that?

Ray nodded slowly. "Hold on," he said. He got up and began a hunt for a pen and paper: he finally found them in a small office up some stairs. He scrawled the house address on it, and ran back to find Celeste.

"Here," he said breathlessly. "If you change your mind."

"Thank you," she said. She folded it up carefully and put it in her pocket. Then she woke Matt up, and Ray went back to find the others. They were preparing to leave already.

When they emerged from the crehe, Celeste and Matt had already gone. Tim pushed the church door open with some apprehension- but there was nothing too bad out there. Just a downed tripod, half of it embedded in the ground, and a couple of soldiers and civilians hanging around.

One of the soldiers saw them looking and approached them, a big smile on his face.

"There were no casualities," he said. "None whatsoever."

"Seriously?" Maryann said, awestruck.

"None," he said. "And- this one was almost definately one of the last. I've passed that information on to everyone I've seen- there's nothing to worry about, all right? It was the last one in the area- there's still some still active in other parts of the globe- but they're dropping like flies, believe me,"

Rachel spoke up. "And...and there won't be any more?"

"Nope, kiddo- no more. Not ever."


	9. In The Dark

**Survival**  
_9. In The Dark_

So they walked home.

It took some time. Tim was carrying three packs of waffles and a bottle of orange juice taken from the church cafeteria, Robbie was carrying the other bits of food- the candy and so on- and Rachel, it turned out, was still carrying the stuffed horse.

"I'm sorry," she said, when she saw Ray looking. "I didn't mean to take it, it's just...I didn't want to leave it."

Which seemed fair enough, to him.

As they walked into their street they saw Anna and Gerald, standing outside the house. They were exchanging words quietly- then they spotted their daughter.

Maryann raced over to them- as best as she could, it was getting harder for her to run- and hugged them both. Anna started crying. Every single one of them got a hug- Ray found himself being crushed by Anna, and he was shocked to say the least. He was almost dragged inside by her- she was clutching his and Robbie's hands.

"We thought you were dead," she said hysterically. "We heard it, even over here- we thought- oh god, we thought-"

She ushered both them and Maryann to chairs. Rachel was still being hugged by her grandfather. "We thought it must have...must be happening again. Maryann, everything's okay, isn't it? We saw people, they told us it was one of them, only one, but they didn't know..."

She reached behind her and found a tissue box. She blew her nose loudly.

"It's fine, Mom- it's fine," Maryann said. She herself looked close to tears, and she moved her hands to her belly absently. "We stayed the night in a church- we were fine."

"And we got some food," Rachel piped up. "Candy, mostly."

Robbie emptied his pockets. Piled up on the table, it didn't look like very much. Ray shrugged.

"We can get food whenever we like." he said perkily.

"Dad, you know that's not true," Robbie said.

* * *

The rest of that day passed in a sort of vacuum. No-one did very much. Ray wished the TV was working- what would be on it, if it was on? News reporters interviewing devastated citizens, scenes of devastation, the President addressing the nation- wait, he was probably dead-

It would be nice to know what was going on in the rest of the world, though. Were there still tripods running loose in Britain or Japan? What was happening there? Virtually everyone in the twenty-first century was connected up to the world like no-one had ever been before, they'd taken it for granted...and now they were lost in the dark.

The living room needed dusting. The TV screen for one was covered in a layer of the stuff.

Dust. Hahaha. What if- God, what if- there was still the dust of people in the air? And every time you went out there you were-

_God_.

If he had followed that train of thought he might well have thrown up on the carpet; but Rachel, still holding her stuffed horse, chose that moment to come in.

"Rachel," he said with relief. "Hiya, baby," He looked at her. "All you alright?"

She didn't look especially alright- not that he expected her to be all light and smiles, but she looked like she was ready to cry. "No, Dad," she said. "Robbie's all..."

"All what?" he asked urgently. She sat next to him.

"He just...he won't talk. Not properly," she said. "He's _changed_."

"I know, Rachel- we all have." He hugged her. She sniffed.

"He doesn't want to talk, he said-"

"He'll come down soon, Rachel. He's just...he went through a lot."

"But so have _I_!" she said with sudden fury. "He ran off and left...and...and I thought he was dead and I thought Mom was dead and I...I thought _you _were gonna die! I thought that man was going to kill you." She buried her head in his t-shirt. "I thought _he'd _come out of that room instead, and he'd kill me as well..."

Ray realised he had never considered that, back in the cellar. That he might lose. Or had he? There was really very little he remembered about that night, when it came down to it.

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

"It wasn't your fault," she said fiercely.

He didn't have an answer to that.

Rachel shifted slowly off the sofa. "I have a question," she said seriously.

"What's that, Rachel?"

"Will we...get to go home again? It got ruined, didn't it? And your house, as well. Are we...is anyone going to rebuild them?"

Ray shook his head slowly.

"Eventually, Rachel- eventually, I don't see why not."

* * *

While sitting around the dinner table- dinner was pizza, small portions- Ray remembered something.

"D'ya remember that girl at the church, Maryann?"

"What girl?" Maryann asked.

"The one who came in with her son."

"The one who kept talking to you?"

"Yeah. Her name was Celeste...she was staying at a camp, she had nowhere to go. So- well, it was a spur of the moment thing- I gave her this address, I said that her and her son could come here, if they wanted."

"What?" Anna snapped from the other end of the table. "This is not your house, Ray Ferrier-"

"So?" he snapped back. "Her daughter was killed, she had almost no-one left. We got talking, I didn't want to just leave her."

"What would you care about that? You're only interested in women if you can get them into bed."

"_Mom_!"

"Now that's no worse than the things you said yourself, dear," Anna said, in such a dignified old-person voice that it made Ray want to scream. "This house belongs to me and your father."

Ray glanced at Maryann, and found to his surprise that she was looking at him with something not unlike...pride? It was hard to tell. But then she said, in a calm voice, "We have a house here, there's enough room for two more people, and if this woman wants to stay with Ray then I see no reason why not."

And Gerald nodded too.

"There are plenty of abandoned houses," Anna argued. "They're just sitting there, with appliances and beds free for the taking. Why on earth don't the people in camps go to one of those?"

"They're providing food at the camps," Ray said.

"And the soldiers are probably stopping them going anywhere," Robbie supplied. They all looked at him. "It's possible," he muttered. "They...you know...they didn't want people taking food either..."

"It's a mess," Gerald said firmly.

Everyone was quiet. Rachel opened her mouth to say something to Robbie, but then she shut it again. Ray felt like telling her to say whatever she had been about to, to not keep it all inside, but he didn't. And Robbie didn't say anything else, either.

* * *

After tea, Ray sat in the living room once more. Rachel played with her toy horse.

"What are you gonna call him?" Ray asked.

"What?"

"What are you gonna call the horse?"

"He's a she. And I don't know," she answered. She seemed very glum- she leaned against the television absentmindedly.

"Rachel? What is it?"

"I was thinking that Amy would probably want a horse like this..."

"Amy?"

"My best friend. At school."

Ray winced. "Rachel, she might not be dead."

"They're _all dead_, Dad," she said, in a grown-up voice that cracked. She didn't even cry- she just pulled herself onto the sofa, toy in hand. "You...you _saw _what was going on..."

"Yeah," he said, in a small voice. "But- well, miracles happen, Rachel. We thought Robbie was dead..."

"That's _one_ miracle," she said fiercely. "We need about a thousand. For Uncle Richard and Auntie Jean and Jimmy and Callie- _and_ for Aunt Miriam, _and _Joe, _and_ all my friends. And all their friends, and all Robbie's friends too- and my teachers, and- you know- even the people I don't like. I just don't like them being dead when I _saw _them every day."

Ray found all he could do was stare- because she was right, of course. So hideously right. He'd seen his workmates lasered to death before his eyes and his neighbours blown up in their houses- somehow, knowing your acquaintances were dead was a thing almost equal to knowing your friends were dead. Or for him, at least.

"Not all of them will be dead, Rachel," he said firmly. "It just- doesn't really work like that. _Someone _will have survived."

She said nothing, just sat back and hugged her toy horse. "Amy's not very clever," she said sadly. "She wouldn't have thought of any of the stuff you thought of."

Ray racked his brains: he couldn't think of anything he'd thought of that had been especially clever. The tripod explosion- he didn't even like to think about it too much because the thought of being there, in the belly of the beast, still scared the hell out of him- he figured it was mostly luck, panic, instincts and the quick thinking of strangers, little to do with cleverness when it came down to it.

"And Daphne Lawdry- she's Amy's cousin, she's older- she was sick the last time I went to school so I didn't even see her," Rachel was nearly crying now. "_It's not fair_."

There was a noise from the direction of the living room door- Ray looked up and saw Maryann there. She walked in and sat on the sofa as well, next to Rachel.

"Don't cry, honey," she said. "Things are going to get better. You'll be able to go back to school, and I'm _sure _Amy will be there, because I know Amy's mom and Amy's mom will have looked after her. You'll get food every day- proper food, roast chicken and meatballs and pie- and the TV and computers will work, and you won't have to live here any more. Me and you and Robbie and Tim- we'll get a nice new house near here- and your dad-" She shot a look at Ray. "-he'll live next door to us. And everything will be fine."

Ray listened unconviced: this sounded insanely optimistic, but he sure as hell wasn't going to contradict her.

"You hear me, Rachel?" Maryann said.

"Yeah, Mom"

"Good."

The two of them hugged. "I can feel the baby," Rachel said. "When are you going to have it?"

At those words, Ray saw a flicker of anxiety in Maryann's eyes. "I don't know, honey. Sometime...why don't you go play with your brother? I think he needs the company."

Rachel left the room, and Maryann looked at Ray.

"I've told my parents and Tim already...I don't know what to _do_, Ray." She ran her hands along her stomach. "If any hospitals are still standing, they'll be full. I...you see, there's less than a month left...I was thinking we ought to go to a hospital now. We'd probably be chucked right out, but..."

"You mean, leave you in the hospital until you've had the baby?"

"Yeah."

"There isn't any way we could bring a doctor here, or anything?"

"I don't know. We really ought to..." She shook her head. "I'm not afraid to go out again, you know. But we leave the kids this time."

Ray nodded slowly.

"I'm really worried, Ray." she said quietly.

He nodded.

"We'll go out then- I don't mind coming with you."


	10. Good Deeds

**Survival**  
_10. Good Deeds_

The next day (which was a Thursday- Ray heard Tim mutter at breakfast how he never could get the hang of Thursdays, and had no idea what he on about) they recieved a visitor. It was towards the end of the day, when they were having supper- the doorbell rang.

Everyone looked at each other.

"Who would that be?" Anna said quietly.

"Jehovah's Witnesses?" Gerald said. He got up to answer the door- it was his house, after all- and the others gradually put down their food and followed him. The door was opened warily- a man with a clipboard stood there.

"So," he said perkily, "Who's here, then?"

All seven of them stared at him, in varying stages of disbelief. Then Gerald said, "This is offical, is it?"

"Yeah," the man said, his high spirits gradually vanishing. "As offical as anything's gonna be these days. It'd be useful to know who's alive, dead, and where, you see..."

"I can imagine," Maryann said.

"And I'm the...representive...for the Boston area. Or I am now."

Ray felt rather sorry for him.

"Erm, right," Maryann said. "Okay. There's seven people here...there's me, Maryann Johnson..." Ray had wondered what name she would use; she generally used her maiden name for everything now.

"Or Maryann Taylor, I go by both," she added. "My parents, Anna and Gerald Johnson, my kids..." She listed all their names, introducing Ray as 'my ex-husband.' Then she explained that actually most of them weren't from Boston, answered a few questions about where they _had _come from, and finally the man was finished with them.

"Well," he said. "Looks like that's it. You've all been very helpful. Now..." He looked like he wanted badly to go home, "...any questions?"

"Questions?" Robbie asked. "You mean..."

"Well," the man said, "clearly, you know, life will be a little different from now on."

_He's as hopeless as we are_, Ray thought grimly.

"I know," Maryann said. "When will the electricity be back on?"

"We're working on it as you speak, m'am."

"Is anyone gonna take the helicopter out of the back yard?" Rachel piped up. The man flinched.

"Of course, we'll send someone over to do that, as soon as things are a bit more...organized..."

"I think there were people in there," Rachel went on.

"Yes, there would have been..." He looked rather sick. "Don't worry. I'm sure things will get sorted soon...expect the electricity to be on in a few days, alright?"

He made a hasty exit.

"Hey!" Ray called after him. He meant to tell him there was a dead body a few houses down, but the man didn't hear him and made his way across the road to the house opposite.

They all came back in and closed the door.

"At least we know about the electricity," Anna began, but Tim suddenly flung the door open and raced across the street. The others piled outside as well: Tim was asking the man questions...or maybe just one question...

Tim came back.

"I asked him when the list of the confirmed dead would be published," he said flatly. "He said perhaps next week. And he hasn't seen Joe."

"What about Miriam, or Richard?" Maryann questioned.

"No, them neither." But Ray knew he probably hadn't asked about them.

The door closed and they went back to their dinner. The dining room looked out on the back yard, and the ruins contained within it. The blinds were firmly drawn- they had been since Ray and Rachel had arrived.

* * *

In the evening Ray attempted to read a book, even though it was dark outside and the only light came from candles Anna had lit around the house. He wanted something to do, and he could hardly go the pub. He kept a close eye on the kids: they were playing chess again. Everything was relatively quiet and peaceful.

Things hadn't been quiet and peaceful for months and months on end. And not just since the alien invasion, either.

_You're lucky. So goddamn lucky. You shouldn't be sitting in the house reading, you should be outside giving food to those who aren't as lucky, or something..._

Then Maryann came into the room.

"Hi, Mom," Rachel said automatically. "Where's Tim?"

Ray's good mood, if it could be called that, deflated a little.

"He's upstairs, asleep," Maryann said. And she added, "Guys...he's getting more upset by the day, you may have noticed. Please be good to him."

Ray knew who she was really talking to. She was talking to him- she didn't trust him to know when to be tactful. He'd show her.

"Joe...he...he _might _be alive, right?" Robbie said worriedly. "Mom? Dad? He might have gotten to one of the camps..."

"Maybe," Ray said carefully. "There's every possibility..."

Rachel seemed to have lost all interest in the game now. "It's not _fair_," she murmured. "He was really nice..."

"I wish they'd just killed the bad people," Robbie said out of the blue.

Ray pondered this. It seemed a bit disturbing to him. Who exactly fell into the category of _bad people_? Terrible fathers, thieves, murderers- definately that last one. You couldn't change a murder, after all.

Rachel and Robbie left the room, downcast.

"We should go after them-" Ray said, getting up.

"No," Maryann said. "They need to talk on their own, I think."

"They've done that already!"

"I know. Just trust me."

He hadn't trusted her for a very, very long time. In fact, he wasn't sure, come to think of it, if he'd _ever _trusted her. Loved her, but not trusted her, or not trusted _them_. He sat back down.

"Maryann, why'd you marry Tim?"

"Ray," she said warningly.

"No, listen, it's about time I knew. I've been wondering for so long..."

"Ray, this isn't the right time."

"I have a right to know."

She glared at him. "Alright. He's kind, intelligent, attractive, reliable, well-off, and good in bed. Is that a good enough answer?"

"You mean I'm not attractive or good in bed?"

"You weren't reliable."

"Fine."

They both were quiet.

"I can't believe we just had that conversation," Maryann muttered. "It's the end of the world, for god's sake."

* * *

The electricity did not come on in the next few days. Ray hadn't been expecting it to, and quite possibly no-one else had, either. He was sitting in the kitchen with his elbows on the table, feeling hungry- there was virtually no food in the house, and little water. There had been _rainwater_ available for ages- Anna and Gerald put containers outside every day. He was wary about letting the kids drink any, but they had insisted, and it seemed to be alright. Not a patch on proper water, or Coke, though.

Today would be a good day to go out- it was surprisingly sunny, for one thing. And Robbie and Rachel were both still asleep, if they wanted to leave without waking them...

Tim was winding up the clockwork radio. He had, as it turned out, been winding it up and listening to it almost every day, while Ray had completely forgotten about it. He stopped winding and moved the dials around, but got nothing.

"You know what's creepy?" he said.

"What?"

"The emergency message we used to get it to play? I can't get it anymore."

"Oh. Probably just 'cos you can't work the radio."

"Shut up."

"I second that, Ray." Maryann was sitting at the table, her head resting on her arms. "Please be quiet."

The doorbell rang.

"It must be that guy back again," Tim said. "I'll get it."

All three of them went to the door, but it wasn't him- instead, it was Celeste.

Alone.

* * *

They took her into the living room, but they had no food to give her. She was wearing a thin summer dress and battered trainers, and was carrying two plastic bags which it was hard to make her let go of. She sat on the sofa, tears dripping from her eyes.

Tim and Maryann moved away from her, and let Ray hold her hands and try to talk.

"Celeste. Celeste, what happened to you?"

"You were right," she said, gasping for breath. "I shouldn't have gone back to the camp."

"Celeste, tell me what happened- if I can put it right, I will, okay?"

"You can't put it right," she said hysterically. And then, as if trying to get it out all in one go: "It's Matt. My son. He's dead. There was a fight at the camp over food and he fought this...this man who'd taken some of his. And they had a fight...and he killed Matt."

Ray stared at her in horror.

"With his bare hands." Celeste added in a whisper. "He killed Matt. Matt's still there."

Robbie chose that moment to walk in. He took in the scene around him and promptly walked out. Maryann went after him.

"It was such an ordinary day," Celeste said, barely registering this. "His body's still lying there now. Red t-shirt, blue jeans, his sister's bracelet and an ipod. He's _still there _and I _left him_..."

Ray had a terrible vision of Celeste's son lying on the ground somewhere covered in blood, the ipod's music playing on to empty ears. Had his killer been _trying _to kill him?

_With his bare hands..._

"Oh, Celeste...my god..."

"All my children," she said with a sob, "all my children, they've gone..."

Ray had no idea what to do- he was still holding her hands and couldn't seem to let go. He heard the sound of a plastic bag being rustled.

"Here," Tim said. He was fishing about inside the plastic bags Celeste had brought in- they appeared to be filled with food. He brought out a candy bar. "Celeste? You should have something to eat."

"I don't want anything to eat."

"I know, but maybe-"

"I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO EAT."

Ray heard Rachel's voice from the staircase, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. Then he heard the creak of the floorboards as someone asended the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Celeste," he said hopelessly.

"Of course you are."

* * *

The adults had a tense discussion in the kitchen while Celeste remained in the living room. Robbie and Rachel were under firm orders to remain upstairs, and although Robbie had objected, he was obeying.

"You can't throw her out," Ray said. "She's just sitting there crying."

"Believe it or not, I agree with Ray," Tim said.

"Look, no-one is suggesting throwing her out," Anna said wearily. "It's just...what about the food? And where is she going to sleep? On the floor?"

"She doesn't want any food," Maryann said. And then she dropped her voice: "Listen, Ray- you ought to keep a close eye on her. She...well, you can tell she's unstable, can't you?"

"Yeah."

"And don't let the kids...don't leave them with her, alright?"

"Why?"

"Ray, just...just don't. She's not well. I can see it."

"Of course she's not well. She just lost her son...and her daughter, as well, before. And probably a few other people..."

Tim shot him a glance.

"...and her son was killed when she thought he was safe. But I won't leave the kids with her," he added. "Or not without someone else there."

"Thank you," Maryann said.

With that said, they went through to the living room. Celeste was sitting on the sofa staring straight ahead, unblinking.

"Celeste," Maryann said gently. "You can stay here for as long as you want, okay? You'll have to sleep on a sofa, and we don't have enough food, but-"

"There's food in the bags," Celeste said flatly. "You can have it. I don't want it."

Tim went through one of the bags, pulling out some tinned tomatoes. "Where did you get all this from, Celeste?" he asked. "Is this what they're giving away at the camps?"

"No," Celeste said. "I stole it. From a store on my way here."

Tim nodded.

"Keep it." Celeste said. "I don't want to eat ever again."

"No, Celeste-" Maryann said.

"I'm not eating," Celeste said. Then she cast a glance at Maryann. "You're pregnant, aren't you? Very."

"Yes," Maryann said worriedly.

"Whose child?"

Maryann shook her head slightly, taking a step back. "Tim's." And she gestured to Tim. Then she said, "Robbie and Rachel, though, they're Ray's kids. We were married once."

Celeste looked oddly interested. "Why did you divorce?"

"We just did."

"I'm divorced." she said, and gestured to the shopping bags again. "Some of that's from the camps- the sandwiches, they gave us lots of sandwiches. I dunno where they got them from. Just take them."

* * *

Tim stacked up the tins in the kitchen: tomatoes, baked beans, fruit salad. There was also a loaf of bread (looking rather worse for wear now), a bunch of assorted candy bars, three big bottles of water and cartons of fruit juice, and right at the bottom of one of the bags: three soggy cheese sandwiches. Tim moved to throw them in the bin.

"That's food," Ray snapped at him.

"It's not edible."

Ray took one of the sandwiches and bit into it. It wasn't very nice, but he managed to choke the first mouthful down. Tim watched with his eyebrow raised.

"If you want to poison yourself-"

"Fine."

He took another bite, then put it down irritably.

"This is only gonna last a few days. We'll have to go out again- we were gonna do that anyway."

"Uh-huh. And Maryann's told you her plans, right?"

"Right."

Brief silence.

"I'm worried," Tim muttered. He ran a hand through his hair. "That's- I- I mean, the hospitals- she might have difficulties and..."

"She'll be fine."

"And what about the baby?"

Ray shrugged. He didn't want to sound dismissive, because he knew it was a very serious matter, but all he said was: "It hasn't happened yet."

Tim gave him an irritated look.

"So, that girl," he said. "She's your responsibility, y'know. You brought her here. Why aren't you looking after her?"

"Cause she's just sitting there at the moment. I dunno if she can even hear me."

"Well, don't just leave her."

"I'm not."

* * *

When lunchtime came, everyone ate the tinned tomatoes: they tasted alright. Ray put some aside on a plate for Celeste and went to take it to her.

"Can I talk to her?" Rachel asked, appearing at his side suddenly.

"No, Rachel- I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because she's..." He sought around for a word. "She's...sad."

"Dad, I'm not five."

"What d'ya mean?"

"She's gone crazy, right? And you're not telling me."

Ray knelt down so he was at her eye level. "Rachel...don't try and make her talk, alright? If she tries to talk to you that's fine, but don't..."

"I won't."

"Good girl."

Ray went to the living room and knocked at the door.

"Celeste. I've brought food."

"Oh," came her voice.

Ray pushed the door open and went in, Rachel still with him. He put the plate down on the sofa next to her.

"I won't eat it," she said. Then she looked at Rachel. "I remember you. From the church."

Rachel nodded.

"You look like my Jessica," she said. "Same sort of hair, but hers was darker."

Ray instinctively moved Rachel behind him. "Celeste, please eat."

She said nothing else, and they went out of the room. Ray closed the door, and Rachel shot towards the stairs.

"Rachel?"

He looked at her- she had just started to cry. "Rachel? What is it?"

"She reminds me of that man!"

That man...oh, that man in the cellar. Ogilvy...Ray couldn't remember his full name. Brilliant. You would have thought if you'd killed someone you might have had the courtesy to remember what their name was, but apparently not.

"Well, she's not like that, Rachel...she's not..." He trailed off lamely. He felt faintly sick.

"I don't want to go near her, though," Rachel said. "And you shouldn't either...actually, can't she leave?"

"Rachel, she doesn't have anywhere else to go..."

Rachel mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that, Rachel?"

"I said, 'No good deed goes unpunished."

Ray blinked: that was not the sort of thing you often heard a ten-year-old say. "Well, ur, Rachel-"

Rachel shook her head nervously and moved back towards the kitchen. "I...just don't want..."

She didn't finish, but Ray knew exactly what she meant.


	11. Story Time

**Survival  
**_11. Story Time_

Over the next few days, Celeste continued to deterionate. She never ate the tomatoes- Rachel had them for breakfast instead- and she would only drink if she was pressed into it. Rachel avoided her, not even going near the living room, and Robbie did mostly the same. Ray did find him in the living room on the second day, asking Celeste if she wanted to read a book, but he forced him out of the room as quickly as possible.

On the third day, Tim approached him.

"I'm going out for food- the tins have run out. Maryann's sick and not going anywhere. Either Anna or Gerald is going to stay with her and the kids- are you going to stay here and look after Celeste?"

"What?"

"I _said_, are you going to-"

"No, I heard- why didn't you tell me before?"

"Should I have?"

"Oh- look, never mind- I want to come with you."

"Then who's going to look after Celeste?"

Ray decided to temporarily drop the subject. "Who's coming with you? Anna or Gerald?"

"I don't know. But really we don't need more than two people- and Robbie wants to come."

"Well, he can't."

"I told him that."

"Good."

They regarded each other for a moment.

"I thought Maryann wanted to go to a hospital."

"She appears to have changed her mind for now. She says she'll go when she's feeling better. Maybe tomorrow. We were going to look at the hospitals and ask around, see how full they are."

"Alright- I'll stay here then," Ray said. "What're you getting from the shops? Just food?"

"Yeah. Unless you want clothes for Celeste."

"Yeah, I do...and, I dunno, magazines and stuff? If there's any around."

"Alright."

A few minutes later and he'd fetched some money and rounded up Anna- she was carrying a gun.

An ex-mother-in-law with a gun- just what he wanted to see.

"Whose is...?"

"Mine," Anna said shortly. "Maryann is asleep...and so is your friend. Maryann is upstairs, and the kids are too...Rachel's in the bedroom, Robbie's in the bath."

"Um, okay- so the water's working?"

"No. It's a bucket of rainwater- there's no more water in the tanks. It was good enough for people a few centuries ago."

"Alright."

Anna placed the gun in her belt, and opened the front door. Tim followed her.

"We'll be back by noon," he said.

"Okay."

The front door banged shut.

* * *

Ray went to find the kids- Robbie was on the landing wrapped up in a towel.

"Hey, Robbie."

"Hey-" And then very quickly: "I've been thinking, does Mom know about what you did? Did you ever tell her?"

Ray knew straight away what he was talking about, and wondered what had brought this on. "No, I don't think she does."

"Are you gonna tell her?"

Ray shrugged.

"There's a lot we haven't told each other, after all...I don't even know what happened to her on her way to Boston."

"Don't you? She told me, back when- ur, you know, back when I was-"

"Yeah."

"Ray?" called a voice.

It was Maryann, calling from one of the bedrooms.

"Maryann?"

"I'm in here. You can come in if you want."

Ray went in. Robbie went off to a free bedroom.

Maryann was sitting up in bed.

"So. What did you do?" she asked. At Ray's horrified expression, she added, "I heard what you were saying- Robbie's told me his story already. Maybe it's your turn."

"When did he tell you?"

"Now. A few minutes ago. I made him tell me. I couldn't stand being left in the dark much longer."

Ray thought about it. "There's nothing much to tell," he lied.

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not, I- look, you'd throw me out if you knew."

"Try me."

"I killed a man because he was shouting and the aliens were near and Rachel was with us."

Maryann looked at him carefully, as if checking he wasn't lying, and said. "Oh."

"Oh? What the hell d'ya mean, _oh_?"

"I would have done the same thing."

Ray considered that. "Right," he said. "He was a big guy, you know, I thought..."

"Don't be like that."

He shut up.

"Well," Maryann said. "Thanks for saying..." She gave a small groan. "You were saying you didn't know about how I got to Boston, out there, weren't you? I could've sworn I mentioned it at some point."

"Not to me. Are you sure you wanna talk? You look like you'd rather sleep."

"No, talking helps me keep my mind off things. I feel shitty like you wouldn't believe."

Ray grinned at that. "Alright. I'll listen."

"It's not that interesting, compared to what..." She stopped dead and started again. "We were lucky, I think. Just lucky. The storm came, the car stopped, we pulled over, saw it had happened to everyone else, got freaked out. We took our stuff from the car and started walking, and then we heard it-"

Ray nodded.

"And we didn't know what it was, at first, and then this- this _thing _was on the horizon all of a sudden. And everyone had just stopped to stare, and then gradually people started to run- I dunno if anyone in our crowd got killed, I think we were too far away. And then- Tim was just standing there saying _Holy fuck _over and over again, so I dragged him away and we kept running, and when we turned around to look at it it was heading away from Boston. So we figured maybe we were safe, and we went in this crowd into the city, and people were saying it was terrorists, they'd invented these killing machines to wipe us out, and then people started saying it was aliens, and you- you don't believe that stuff at first, do you? Until we got right into Boston, and suddenly there was this other one practically on top of us- people panicked like crazy-"

She looked at Ray, who was listening intently.

"-so we ran off again, and people must've got killed at this point because we heard screaming and the lot, and we heard helicopters and I think it actually followed the helicopters- but either way when we got to Mom and Dad's house, the house was still there, and they were still there. So we- just stayed."

Ray nodded.

"Did you think I was dead?" Maryann asked quietly.

"It crossed my mind...but I wasn't going to say that in front of Rachel."

"Of course not."

There was silence while she yawned.

"Robbie did tell me about the tripod, though," she said, in a different tone of voice. "He said you brought one down. Is that true?"

"Do you _really_ think I'd lie about something like that?"

"Just checking," She was looking at him funny...her expression was caught somewhere between awe and...shock, perhaps. "I...well, I don't know what to say to that. I thought you made it up for Robbie, to...I dunno, make him feel better. Anything."

"It's true. But I had help- or I'd have died there otherwise."

Did she just shudder? "Are you gonna explain about it?"

He took a deep breath. "We ended up inside one of those things...Rachel, then me. I had some explosives, grenades, I took them from a car or something...I didn't even think about it, just something in there grabbed me, and it..."

_It was very dark and he was completely convinced he wouldn't get out alive. Still. He had to try-_

_Go home, Rachel, and find your brother. I'm so sorry._

"Ray?"

"I have no idea what I was thinking, it just sucked me into it and I was still holding the explosives and I pulled the pins out. I thought, either I blow it up from the inside and it goes down or I get spared whatever it's going to do to me, y'know? And it worked. And then strangers dragged me back out again. And that's it, really."

Maryann just stared.

"You'll...have to sell that story to a newspaper or something, when all this is over," she said weakly. "That's...incredible."

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. It could be either Celeste or Gerald- but it sounded like a girl. Ray went to see. It was her all right.

"I'm lonely," she said in a dead voice.

Rachel looked out of her bedroom to see what was going on, and quickly went back inside again.

"You can...I'll come and sit with you," Ray said quickly. "Just go downstairs, Celeste,"

He nodded at Maryann.

"I guess you know everything now," he said.

"I do." she said.

* * *

When they passed the kitchen, they saw Gerald in there with his head in his hands. Ray could only assume this was because of Miriam. Celeste didn't notice.

They went to the living room and sat down on the sofa.

"How did you do it?" Celeste muttered.

"Do what?"

"Bring both of your kids back safely. Have your family left intact."

"I only saved Rachel. Robbie saved himself."

"But you must have done something. Been faster, or been smarter, or something."

"I think it was just luck, Celeste. Pure dumb luck, y'know?"

She shrugged. Then she said, "I heard you talking- did you really kill somebody, or did I hear wrong?"

Ray thought about Matt. To think he'd gotten so far, only to be killed by a human being...it was bitterly unfair. Even he could feel how unfair it was, and he had only met the kid once.

"You heard wrong."

"I thought I must have."

* * *

Tim and Anna did indeed return at noon, carrying plastic bags. Both of them looked somewhat grim, although they'd returned with food- sandwiches mostly. Cheese, cheese and pickle, ham and tomato. Ray knew Celeste wasn't going to touch them. Also, they'd found bread, butter, strawberry jam, apples, carrots, chocolates, chips, and lots of water and lemonade. Plus a pack of microwavable pizzas. Pepperoni.

"It's not funny," Tim said. "This is what they're giving away. We saw their little tents and tables- soldiers for miles around giving out microwavable pizzas." He gave a laugh that was close to hysterical, and went to help Maryann get downstairs. When she was safely at the table, he offered her a sandwich, and then said glumly. "We found a hospital. It's not in great shape. It's full of people with- Ray, is Celeste asleep?"

"She was last time I saw her."

"The hospital is full of people like Celeste, and people who're missing an arm or leg or most of their limbs. It's horrible. When I found a doctor to talk to, he said, and I quote- 'Look, you little shit, we're busy.' And when I found someone more willing to listen, he said that really all you could do was take your chances."

Maryann said nothing.

"But we're not going to give up. We're going to find a car and get it working and drive you straight down there and not leave, okay? I'm not losing anyone else, Maryann."


	12. Lucky

**Survival**  
_12. Lucky_

Finding a car was easy: they were lined up all the way along the road. They went to get one the next day. Tim chose a silver one and they got to work fixing it. Ray and Tim did all the work: Robbie sat on the steps of someone else's house and bounced a ball on the ground.

It was surprisingly easy to pretend everything was normal. The street wasn't even entirely deserted- every so often someone would walk past. At first nobody made eye contact, but eventually people would look up at them- even smile slightly, in some cases. Then, of course, Ray would see the red weed still on the ground, hidden in the corners and not quite dead yet. On its way, definitely, but not dead yet. It wasn't over.

It would never _be _over.

"I wonder," Robbie said, throwing the ball against the wall and catching it again, "what they did with the aliens."

"What?" Ray asked.

"What they did with the aliens. I mean, they're dead...they must be experimenting on them or something."

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose..."

"They died of...of us, right?" Robbie said with a wary note in his voice. "Of our diseases and stuff. That's what Grandad said. So what if they've got diseases to give to us?"

Ray dropped the spanner he was holding right into the car engine.

"Thanks a lot, Robbie," Tim said dryly. "Don't repeat that to your sister. Or your mother. Or anyone, in fact."

"Sorry," Robbie muttered.

* * *

By afternoon, they had got the car started. They took turns driving it up and down the street to test it, and then made their plans.

"We'll put it in the driveway, no-one will want to steal it if they don't know it's working-"

"Maybe we should take Mom to a hospital not round here, you know? Try and find a better one."

"Maybe, yeah."

* * *

After that came the worst part of the day.

"We're going to drive Maryann to the next town. They might have a bed for her there- if not, we'll keep trying at different places. The car will take five people," Tim said. "Kids?"

"I'll come." Robbie said.

"Me too," Ray said quickly.

"Who'll look after Celeste, then?"

"Celeste will be fine on her own. All she really does is sleep."

"I want to come," said Anna.

"Maryann- how about we take your parents, and Robbie? Rachel, what about you?"

"I'll go with Robbie," Rachel said.

"I'll stay here then," said Gerald.

"No-" Ray said. "No, if the kids are going, then I want to go, too."

Maryann looked doubtful.

"Mom, maybe you could stay behind-"

"No, honey, look what happened the last time you went out. You could have died. So I'm coming this time, and I'm not letting you argue."

"Kids?" Maryann said, turning to them. "Maybe one of you could stay..."

Both of them looked doubtful and worried. Ray suddenly remembered, with a flash of something like guilt, that they'd been in a position of choosing between their parents before. Celeste then walked in and solved their problem.

"Ray, please stay with me..."

So he had little choice, although he hated it. Maryann swore she would look after them, and he believed her, and hell if Robbie hadn't proved he could look after himself, but...

It struck him as very unfair.

* * *

He spent the day sitting on the sofa with Celeste, worrying and angry. He was beginning to wish he'd never given her the house address in the first place; although then where would she be now?

She slept a lot. Ray tried to get her to eat some chocolate, and she did, much to his surprise. He conferred with Gerald in the kitchen.

"When are they going to get back?"

"Before dark, I hope," was the answer.

Annoyed, he went back to sit with Celeste. He was really worried now. Robbie's words about diseases kept coming back to haunt him. It seemed so _plausible_. Heck, everything and anything seemed plausible now. If he looked out of the window and saw a army of zombies, he wouldn't be surprised. Horrified, maybe, but not surprised.

"Your kids will come back alright." Celeste said.

"How d'you know?"

"Because you're lucky."

He didn't answer that.

Celeste gave a little sigh and rested her head on her hand. "You and your ex get on so well."

"We never used to."

"I'm once divorced and once seperated." she said. "Seperated from Robert, divorced from...someone else. He used to beat me, and beat the kids."

Ray wondered if she was telling the truth. She probably was.

"But you got away from him?"

"I hated him. He was a bastard."

Ray nodded.

"He ruined my life, he did..." She trailed hopelessly off. "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah."

But he couldn't take it much longer. He wandered back to the kitchen, to find Gerald still sitting in exactly the same position he'd been in last time.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I can't take talking to her much longer. She..." But he couldn't think of the right word. He just shook his head and said, "They'll be back soon, won't they? I mean...the only thing they have to worry about now is people."

"People are dangerous," Gerald said simply.

Ray knew that.

* * *

Back to Celeste.

"Why did _you _get divorced?" she asked quietly.

"We just didn't get along. We knew each other in high school, got married, had kids- and then we just started arguing, y'know?"

"You must've fallen in love somewhere along the line."

"Yeah, well. Probably."

Silence.

Ray looked at his watch; they'd been gone...three hours. And a half. It seemed like much longer.

"I wish the TV was working," Celeste said.

"Yeah."

"Are there any books to read, Ray?"

"Yeah, some."

He went upstairs to get them. Rachel's toy horse was on the landing, and he avoided looking at it. He took a pile from the bookcase, and took them to Celeste.

"Enjoy," he said flatly, and went upstairs to stare out of the window. He'd see the car coming back, anytime soon, as long as he waited.

He should have come with them. No room in the car, but he could have sat in the trunk or _anything_. He should have argued more.

He stayed there for almost half an hour, then realised he was getting nowhere and went downstairs. He felt sick. He ought to sleep.

He checked in on Celeste. She appeared to have barely touched the books- she was asleep, stretched across the sofa.

Did she ever do anything but sleep? What did she dream about?

He went back upstairs, back to the window, and took a glance. There _was _a car out there...

...but it was a different one.

He found a couple of cushions, and lay down on the carpet. He would go to sleep right here, and he'd wake up at the noise of the car coming back, and everything would be fine.

He lay back and attempted to sleep. He couldn't. Only after he went to one of the bedrooms and found a blanket did he finally start to drift off.

_was that you holy fuck did you do that?_

_who was it who pulled me out of there?_

_You killed him_, said Maryann.

Ray came back to reality franctically, remembering right away where he was. He went to the window. Still nothing.

What was Gerald doing right now? Was he going out of his mind with worry, too? The guy had already lost one child, after all.

He felt guilty, on remembering that. Because...that was exactly how he had felt, for that day or so in the cellar when they were relatively safe. He had Rachel with him, but Robbie had gone. _She's alive, thank god, but..._

_But..._

_But it's not fair, what about Robbie? Is he dead? Is he dying? Why the hell couldn't I save them both?_

_WHY THE HELL COULDN'T I?_

He was pretty sure he was almost asleep now. He was feeling more and more dizzy. He'd probably get nightmares...he didn't want them, but they were sure as hell better than staying up and worrying.

_He was in the darkest corner of the room, thinking WHY THE HELL COULDN'T I over and over again, quite sure he was going to go mad. Rachel was asleep, Ogilvy was...was this before or after he'd killed him? He had no idea...but he wasn't there, anyway._

_Rachel was having a nightmare._

_"Robbie, don't!" she shouted. "Robbie, you idiot!"_

_Ray got to her as soon as she woke up, walking through a valley of dead rats._

And then he heard a car.

_"He's gone, hasn't he? He's not here. Is he gonna come back? Ever?"_

_"Of course he is...he's with your mother right now, Rachel. Safe back home. And she's so glad to see him, but she wants to have you back as well."_

It was definately a car, and it was coming closer. It _had _to be them. Ray jumped up, and put his nose to the window.

It was them.

He tore downstairs, elated, and found Gerald had got to the door first. The car was just pulling up into the driveway. They were all there, safe and sound. Rachel burst out of the back seats and ran to him.

"Dad!" she shrieked. She raced over and hugged him so hard that he almost fell over- not bad for a ten-year-old.

"Hey, Rachel- are you all alright? Is your mother alright?"

Rachel didn't say anything.

"Um." Robbie had come out of the car now. "It's a bit complicated..."

"Robbie, what's happened?"

Gerald had gone to help Tim get Maryann safely out of the car. Tim appeared to be limping, a little. Ray barely put a moment aside to wonder why.

He led the kids inside. He went past the room where Celeste was still sleeping, and into the kitchen.

"We got some food and drink as well, Dad," Robbie said, pulling up a chair for himself. "They were giving away those sandwiches at one of the hospitals."

"What kind?"

"Cheese and pickle."

"Were you worried about us, Dad?" Rachel spoke up.

Ray looked at both of them, not sure how to answer that. They looked back.

"More than you know," he said finally.

"We went to three hospitals," Tim said suddenly from the doorway. Maryann was next to him, a worried frown etched into her features. "Well, two of them were, you know, more like camps, but...well...it could have been much worse..."

"It was a mistake, bringing Rachel," Anna said loudly, also appearing in the doorway with her husband. "No child should see what we saw there."

"I've already seen a lot of stuff," Rachel said with a surprising fierceness. "I was...you know, I was _inside_ a..." She looked away angrily, and Ray gathered from the non-reactions of the other people in the room that she had told everyone about her...abduction. Was that the right word? Did that mean that everyone in the room knew what he had done to bring the tripod down, or did they all assume it was an exaggeration, like Maryann had pretty much done?

It felt like an exaggeration to _him_ sometimes, and he'd been there and done it.

Anyway, they hadn't mentioned it, if they did know.

"Sorry, Rachel," Tim said. "We just want to keep you safe, you know? Anyway," He turned back to Ray and Gerald. "The hospitals are full and...you know, some of them are half destroyed or whatever. And only one had electricity. That was the best one...this guy asked Maryann questions about her last two pregnancies, and he said she'd probably be alright, but he gave us this." He held up a scrap of paper with an address and phone number scrawled on it.

"What's that?"

"The name of a doctor living near here. Apparently, they have confirmation he's still alive, although I have no idea why he's not going into work if that's the case," Tim said bleakly, "The guy at the hospital said if it turns out to be an emergency, we call this guy. Of course, there's no phone, so what he really means is someone hops in the car and goes to get him, instead."

"Well, that's..."

"Better than nothing, I know."

Silence. Ray looked at Maryann. She was wiping tears from her eyes. Tim noticed too and sunk into a chair next to her.

"You want to hear the rest?" Anna said glumly, speaking more to her husband than to Ray.

"What?" Gerald asked. "What happened?"

"We were..." Robbie began, but Anna cut him off.

"At one point, Tim left the car to go into the hospital-camp. We could all see him, and he was in no danger. But someone shot at him."

"Oh."

"People had been doing that a lot, according to the nurse," she went on. "They're at their wit's end...people being killed by other humans is the last thing they want, now. It's a...a waste, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"They said people had been killed, already. Tim was lucky- he just got grazed. But it gave us all a scare."

"There's no police or anything any more," Robbie said. "There was no-one to tell, you know?"

"I knew you'd come back," someone said. They turned around and it was, predictably, Celeste. "I knew it." Her voice sounded different. Colder, in a way. It didn't strike Ray as especially important, though.

Maryann blinked frantically.

"Tim," she said, "you need to put something on your ankle-"

"It'll be fine."

"You're limping."

"Then I was lucky the psycho gunman didn't aim higher, aren't I?"

Maryann's face crumpled and she put her head on the table and started crying. Tim's expression flew straight to panic: he put his arms around her and she pushed him away.

"Oh my _god_," she said with a gasp. "I just can't..."

"I'm sorry, Maryann," Tim said frantically, "I'll fix something on my ankle..."

"It's...not that..." she said, gasping for breath. Anna herded the kids out of the room. "It's not that...can't you _see _it's not that? It's not_ you_. You..." More tears. She pulled a crumpled bit of tissue from her pocket and tried to wipe her nose. "I could _die_, I could _die_, I could fucking die, do you not get that? Answer me, Tim."

Tim said nothing. He was actually looking as Ray, as if pleading for help. How long had those two been married for...?

"ANSWER ME!" Maryann shrieked.

"I get that," Tim said desperately. "I...Maryann...you're not going to die. Neither is...our kid. You're going to be fine."

"Am I, Tim?" She blew her nose again. She seemed to have completely forgotten that both her father and Ray- and Celeste, silent Celeste in the corner- were still in the room. "Am I, Tim? I'm not, am I? Countless people are dead, what's one more? Two more."

Tim said nothing, and neither did anyone else. Random images flashed through Ray's mind: a schoolroom, a telephone, a corpse or two.

There was silence except for Maryann's sobs. Then gradually, she stopped. Ray noticed Celeste was staring at her intensely, but he didn't ask why.

"Where are the kids?" Maryann asked finally.

"Your mother took them out," Tim said. "Didn't want them to get upset."

Ray decided then that it was time to leave. He slid out of the door, and went to the living room. Robbie and Rachel were both there, sitting on the sofa. Their grandmother was not there. As soon as he came in they spun around.

"You need to tell us everything," Robbie said urgently. "She's going to be alright, isn't she? Dad?"

Ray had no idea what to say. He just looked at them.

"_Dad_?" Rachel said desperately.

"I...yeah, Rachel, she's gonna be okay. She's just upset."

"And that's definately true?" Robbie said.

"I wouldn't lie to you."

"I guess so."

There was silence.

"Where's Anna?"

"She's crying upstairs." Robbie said glumly.

"Oh."

Ray realised he was waiting for Celeste to come in. Celeste with her monotone voice and unwashed hair- were there now thousands of people all over the planet walking about like her?

"Where's, ur, Celeste?" Rachel said, as if reading his thoughts.

"I don't know."

He sank down on the sofa next to them, and they waited out the rest of the day.


	13. Technical Difficulties

**Survival**  
_13. Technical Difficulties_

Two days later the electricity came back on.

It was thoroughly unexpected. Ray just woke up on the Saturday, got dressed, walked into the kitchen and the light was on. He didn't even register it at first, then Rachel came running in.

"Dad! _Dad_! The electricity's back on! The TV's working!"

"What?"

"Look up."

He looked up. The kitchen light was on. Without knowing why he dived for the light switch and turned it off again.

"Holy shit."

"Don't swear, Dad."

"Sorry. You said the TV was working?"

Her voice suddenly went quieter. "Yes. It is."

* * *

Barely ten minutes later and everyone was gathered around the television in the living room. Robbie, Anna and Gerald were all still in their pyjamas, and Celeste was standing against the wall instead of sitting down.

No-one was speaking, not even the television.

Picture after picture dissolved onto the screen. A photograph of a tripod rising from the ground in a place Ray didn't recognize. Some video camera footage of people running, the awful foghorn noise sounding in the background. The Statue Of Liberty being...mostly not there.

Maryann, who was seated next to Ray, put her hands to her mouth and swallowed.

On to Paris. The Effel Tower was completely gone- reduced to rubble. Notre Dame Cathedral was a pile of brick and glass. And then on to London- Big Ben had split in two, and the London Eye showed little evidence of having ever been there at all.

"I was gonna go there." Robbie said in a choked voice. "School trip next year."

"What, to London?" Gerald asked.

"Yeah."

On to the remains of Canada, Berlin, Tokyo and countless other places Ray didn't even recognize. Way overdue, text scrolled along the bottom of the screen informing them that if children were present, they should perhaps be sent out of the room. Clearly this applied to adults as well, because Tim got up and left.

"Kids?" he said.

"I'm staying," Rachel said. Robbie said nothing.

The images went round again, displaying in a constant loop. More text showed up. _Join us at twelve thirty for a live show._

"Twelve thirty," Maryann muttered.

"I suppose they've done this every day," Gerald said. "They must have electricity in other places. So they display images all day, except for one live show. Then everyone knows what's going on."

"That makes sense," Maryann said. "I'm not sure I can take any more of this, however."

"Turn it off, then," Anna said.

"I'm not sure I can take turning it off, either."

So it stayed on, and the same images went round and round and still barely sunk in. More scrolling text: _50 of America now recieving electricity and water..._

"Is the water on?" Maryann asked in surprise. "Someone go and see."

Gerald went into the kitchen and turned the tap. Water came out.

"Yeah," he said. "It's cold."

"Never mind that- this means we don't have to worry about drinking any more," Anna said. "Thank heaven for small miracles."

* * *

The images went round and round. Robbie was next to leave the room, and Ray followed him.

Robbie went into the kitchen.

"That wasn't good, watching those" he said quietly. "I feel sick-"

"I know the feeling."

"I was going to go to London and everything..."

"Yeah."

Silence in the kitchen. Ray heard someone else heading up the stairs.

"I...I'll watch at twelve thirty..."

Ray glanced at the table for no reason, and did a double take. Anna's gun was there- just sitting innocently on the table amongst a few unwashed plates.

"What the hell-"

Robbie glanced down at it as well. "Oh. She leaves stuff lying around sometimes." But he didn't pick it up- he took a step away from it. Ray took it instead, and dropped it into a drawer.

"She should know better than that. Why the fuck does she own a gun, anyway?"

"Well, why the fuck do you?" Robbie answered neutrally. "I think it belonged to her grandfather- my great-grandfather, whatever. He used it in the war or something."

"Which war?"

"I dunno. I got told when I was little- Mom might have told me. Just _a _war. There's been a lot of them."

"And it still works?"

"Guess so. But I don't know. I don't care."

Both of them looked at the drawer.

"What time is it?" Robbie asked.

"Nearly nine o' clock."

"I suppose we've got a lot of time to kill, then."

* * *

They didn't do much. They tried changing channels on the TV. Most of them were showing nothing, a few of them were showing old unfunny comedies, or kid's cartoons. It struck Ray as being something bordering on a nice gesture.

But it didn't cheer anyone up.

Especially not Celeste. She didn't speak another word for hours, eventually taking refuge in the lobby and sitting among the shoes piled up there.

"She's like a goddamned animal, that woman." Tim said. He was watching her from the kitchen- he was doing the washing up. Ray was pretending to help by occasionally handing him a plate.

"What?"

"She doesn't eat or talk or anything. She doesn't communicate. Like there's no-one else on the planet who's suffering as much as her."

He turned the tap on fiercely, accidently spraying water on himself.

"You shouldn't have brought her here-"

He turned the tap off again, picked up a towel and dried his hands savagely. "She's just one extra mouth to feed. She's scaring the kids, scaring Maryann, scaring _me_, and you don't give a shit."

"Of course I give a shit," Ray said furiously. "Every time I _look _at her I wish I'd never even fucking talked to her. But I did and I can't get rid of her now and you're not going to either, are you?"

"I'd like to."

"But you're not going to just throw her out onto the street, are you?"

"There are plenty of places she could go."

"But she won't. She'll just die." He was getting quite worked up now. "Or don't you care? She'll just walk out and crumple up and die."

Tim said nothing.

"She's unhinged," he finally said. "She's unhinged and she's stuck in a house with your ten-year-old daughter and you don't care."

Ray wanted very much to hit him round his smug little face then. He didn't. Later on he regretted that he didn't, but he knew that if he _had _he would regret that very much as well.

"Listen to me, you bastard." He grabbed him and spun him around, and the plate he was holding fell on the floor and smashed to pieces. "She isn't dangerous. I've seen dangerous, I've seen what a mad killer looks like, and it isn't her. I want her gone, you piece of shit, but I'm not throwing her out. I can't. Not after...everything. You saw the pictures. People are dead _everywhere _and she could _live_."

He let go.

Tim gave him a look. It was a horrible look- one that was hard to fathom. Not quite hatred but pretty darn close.

"Suit yourself. But don't take your eyes off her."

He threw his towel onto the table behind Ray, and made to leave, but clearly couldn't resist one last parting shot.

"So what does a mad killer look like?" he said nastily. "Like you?" And then he scrambled for the door, and ran away. It sank in all too quickly.

"YOU FUCKING COWARD! YOU COME BACK HERE AND SAY THAT!"

There were the sounds of someone running upstairs. Ray ran after him, screaming every insult he knew.

"YOU COME BACK HERE!"

He didn't, unsuprisingly. Ray paused on the landing, gasping for breath, and then Maryann came out of her room.

"Would you mind not trying to kill my husband, Ray?"

"You ask him what he just said," Ray said furiously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Robbie and Rachel come out from their room, Rachel frightened and Robbie some combination of frightened and annoyed. "Did you tell him everything I told you, Maryann? About what I did. Did you?"

"Yes," Maryann said, "but I was hoping he'd put the information to better use than making cheap shots." She shot her husband an interestingly angry look. "Shake hands and make up."

"Oh, you're fucking kidding." Ray said.

"Do it."

"You know what, Maryann? No I won't."

"Look, like it or not, you're stuck in this house together, and you _have _to get along. For my sake. For the kid's sake. _Please_."

Tim stuck his hand out straightaway at that. Ray looked at it, grabbed it, held it for a second and then let go.

"Thank you."

Ray headed downstairs without looking at anyone- he felt a little guilty now. He should have just ignored the bastard. Shouting half the house down was pretty stupid whichever way you looked at it, and-

Robbie and Rachel were next to him.

"Dad," Rachel said, not frightened anymore, "Tim's on your side,"

"We don't have sides, Rachel. Not now."

"He's a nice man." She was putting on her adult voice again. "Can't you just talk to him?"

Ray sighed. "I'll try, Rachel."

"He was calling you a killer, right?" Robbie said morosely. "He shouldn't have done." But that was all he had to say on the subject.

* * *

At twelve thirty they gathered in front of the television. The constant images flickered on and off the screen- it was getting harder to look at them.

At twelve thirty-five, music started and the image of a tired young woman appeared on screen. She was sitting at a desk covered in notepaper.

"Good afternoon, everyone," she said in a drained but firm voice. "Welcome to all who've just joined us. I'm afraid to annouce the emergency helpline is down again..."

Tim muttered something furiously. Ray didn't hear it.

"-and amongst the surviving world leaders, talks of war continue. The US-"

"_War_?" Ray heard Robbie choke. "You mean...who against? God, who against?"

Nobody answered, especially not God.

"-the blame game continues. It seems the voices of reason are all dead."

"-talks have been going on since-"

"-nuclear weapons have been-"

The combined noise was worse than any noise he'd ever heard- including _that _one. Anna was virtually shouting at the TV set, and Maryann was just staring at it speechlessly.

Robbie was the first one whose words really got through to him.

"They _wouldn't_."

Everyone looked at him- partly because the TV had stopped. They appeared to be having technical difficulties.

"What was that?" Anna asked.

"They wouldn't. They _can't_." Robbie said. His face had gone pale. "They're alive, we're alive, lots of people are alive- and they're talking about-"

Maryann shook her head. Rachel had buried her face in her arm.

The TV came back on.

"Sorry about that, everyone," The woman looked near tears now. "War talks continue in Washington: with the world in it's current state-"

The screen went blank. Tim had turned it off.

"Rachel," he said, "you look terrified. Come on, let's go."

Rachel did indeed look terrified.

"They're going to have a _war_," she said darkly. "They're going to kill the _rest of us_."

"It might not happen, love," Gerald said.

Rachel just shook her head in disbelief, looked at the window as if the whole world outside had betrayed her, and left the room. Tim followed her. Maryann switched the TV back on and Ray was torn: he wanted to see if Rachel was all right, but he also wanted information.

"Research continues on the alien war machines," the girl on the television went on. "Reports-and rumors- say that a small number of the machines were brought down by people who, upon being abducted by the creatures, blew them up from the inside. Authorities have asked anyone with any information of this kind to come forward-there will be a reward..."

Ray found everyone was looking at him, including Celeste.

"_What_ authorities?" he asked.

And the TV blinked off again. It was Rachel- she had come in and taken the remote from where it lay.

"They'll use those- things," she said breathlessly, "and they'll use them to blow each other up..."

"They might not, Rachel," Gerald said firmly. "They're not that stupid."

"Oh, no," said Tim, in the tone of a man who had just discovered his fate, "They are. They definately are."

* * *

Hours passed. They had a meal, Celeste ate only a few bites. Rachel stayed in her room all day, Robbie was deathly quiet. Night fell.

Ray stood at the living room window and looked out. You got more people passing by the house now- only the other day he'd heard someone _laughing, _late at night. He'd gone to the window- it was a bunch of kids out there, with about thirteen bottles of alcohol between them.

_Half the world is dead, let's get drunk._

He wondered now what had happened to them.

He was exhausted, although he had done little exercise for ages. He kept thinking about what he had so recently heard: _anyone with any information..._

What would the 'authorities' use that information for? And who were they? Who was running the world now that most of it was dead?

He had a headache. He'd definately have nightmares tonight.


	14. One Ending

**Survival**  
_14. One Ending_

_"You killed him," Maryann said furiously._

_Ray looked up from his desk. Maryann Johnson was standing there, glaring down at him. She looked very pretty this afternoon: purple top and jeans and highlights in her hair._

_"What was that?" he asked._

_"You killed Jeremy's rat. You stupid ignorant bastard-"_

_"It's a rat, Maryann. It carries disease. We did the school a favour killing it."_

_"You carry fucking diseases too, Ray. Probably more than most people, you bastard. You killed a rat for no reason and Jeremy went home crying. Did you hear that? Crying."_

_"Over a rat? The guy's a bigger dork than I thought."_

_"You killed a living creature! Do you not get that, Ray?" She dug her hands into her pockets._

_"It wasn't just me, the others joined in too," Ray said. "It's not my fault. Not really."_

_"You're such a-" Maryann took a deep breath and started again. "You're a stupid, arrogant jock, Ray Ferrier, and I bet you-" She was floundering; it was hilarious to watch. "I bet you...I bet they throw you in jail...you bastard."_

_She took the dead rat out of her pocket and threw it on his desk. Ray jumped out of his chair instinctively. Maryann flounced away._

_"I'm sorry about him, Jeremy," he heard her say, out in the corridor. "Are you gonna get another rat?"_

_"You can't replace a pet that easily," Jeremy said, with such glumness that Ray felt a flash of guilt._

_"Don't go near Ray or his friends again," Maryann said. "And I'll make sure they don't come near you. Alright?"_

_Ray looked at the rat on the desk. It's eyes were still open. Eww, that was creepy. He ought to throw it out of the window or something, but he didn't want to touch it. It was full of germs and...grossness._

_He was beginning to wish he hadn't killed it now...but that was mostly because he liked Maryann Johnson, and didn't like being on her enemies list. He had always assumed she liked him at least a little- she turned up to most of the football games, after all._

_He decided to leave the room, and let someone else deal with the corpse of the rat. He was doing his homework, but it could easily wait._

_He packed up and went to the door, but - the rat was in the doorway, very much alive. It seemed bigger, more human, and more dangerous. It looked at him angrily, and made...that noise. The sound like a foghorn from the center of the earth._

_The school shook. Maryann and Jeremy had long gone._

_"Holy fuck!"_

_Ray headed for the window, but the rat was there, too. It snarled and jumped at him- he moved out of the way, putting to use the reflexes that had gotten him on the football team, and the rat hit the wall and bounced back onto the desk._

_"You're mad, you are," the rat said sneeringly, in the voice of the man he'd killed. "You survive the greatest disaster EVER- and virtually all your family does as well. You're not fighting and maiming people to get your next meal. You're not dodging death your every waking moment. And all you did to get all this was luck- and one kill. Just one. Just one person who had little left to live for anyway. Just one kill. You must be the luckiest man on Earth."_

And he woke up.

That had been worse than he'd expected.

* * *

He went downstairs dizzily. Robbie and Rachel were watching the TV- cartoons, not the news. Tim was with them, looking miserable.

"Maryann's still in bed. She doesn't feel too well."

"Oh."

That was all he could think of to say- although of course he was concerned for her. After all, what if she-

He ignored that thought. Everything would be fine. The hospitals were back up and running, they had electricity and TV, surely things were getting back to normal, on a superficial level...

He went to the kitchen to get some cereal. He found none. There was only fruit, so he had a apple. And then he noticed Celeste was lying on the floor, under the table- she had slept there.

He shook her shoulder to wake her up.

"Celeste. It's me. It's morning- d'you want something to eat?"

She opened her eyes, looked at him, and slid out from under the table.

"I'll have an apple," she said. She walked to the fruit bowl, and took one. This was a surprising development.

"Celeste? I...didn't expect that..."

"I'm so _hungry_."

They sat in the kitchen. The sun was rising outside.

"That woman- your ex-wife- she's going to give birth soon," Celeste said calmly. "Do you think the hospital will take her?"

Ray groaned out loud. "Celeste? Don't say that in front of the kids."

"Why not?"

"It's their _mother_. They're _scared_."

"Well, so are you."

He wanted very much to tell her to shut up, but couldn't bring himself to.

"Are you having nightmares?" she asked him. "You look like someone who's having nightmares."

"_Everyone _does. And yeah."

"What about?"

"Oh. Um. You know, the usual stuff..."

She didn't press the issue. Maybe she was regaining her sanity- well, there was always hope.

* * *

They watched the news again at twelve thirty: there was more stuff about war. Every country appeared to be blaming every other country for not predicting or defending against the alien invasion, and most of the important people appeared to be dead, and it was (as even the newsreader said) a _mess _of monumental proportions.

All of them were helpless in the face of this. Nobody even mentioned that since Ray had (with help) brought down an alien war machine, they possibly had some sort of advantage others didn't- and it was driving him crazy. Who was he supposed to tell his story to? What did he have to tell? He couldn't even remember most of it. It had been done out of desperation, nothing more. He would be of no help to anyone, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be.

Other people who had brought down a tripod ('assisted with the war effort') were being interviewed: an old man who seemed utterly traumatised and a Japanese woman who couldn't speak much English. Apparently they were to recieve medals and a cash reward. How _much_ cash was one thing no-one seemed to know.

Talks about nuclear weapons came next- who had them, whose had been destroyed, what this meant for this world. Some politician appeared on screen looking tired and talking angrily.

Update on the President: he was missing presumed dead. No-one seemed entirely sure what to do about that. There was an interview with someone or other in Tokyo, and then the program ended. Some old black-and-white movie came on. No-one could be bothered to turn it off.

The day went on.

* * *

On one of the other channels, there were the images Ray had privately dreaded seeing: the bodies being dumped. Thousands at a time- into freshly dug pits, mostly. They were the ones crushed by falling buildings or killed in the plummeting aeroplanes or murdered- and there were _so_, _so_ many of them.

He saw nobody he recognized.

As soon as Rachel came into the room he turned the TV off again.

"I'm worried about Mom," Rachel said, in an anxious tone.

"I know, Rachel. But she's gonna be fine."

"How do you know?"

"Because the electricity's back on, so things are getting back to normal. There's nothing to worry about. She'll just go to hospital and you'll have a new baby brother or sister..."

"Half-brother or sister," Rachel said.

"Um, yeah."

"Are you sure?"

She looked even less convinced than he did.

"I'm sure, Rachel. Your mom will be fine. And so will the baby, alright?"

"Alright."

The phone rang.

Both of them stared like they'd never heard that noise before. It rang again- and Tim ran in and picked it up.

"Hello," he said curtly. Then, "Hello, Zoe. You've phoned to tell me he's dead, haven't you- where are you?" A pause. "Yes. Right. Do you really expect me to have a godammned answer to that, Zoe? No. Alright. Goodbye."

He put the phone carefully back on the hook and shifted slowly to the sofa.

Then he stayed there, barely moving, head in hands.

"Tim?" Rachel ventured. "Tim, is it..." She fell silent.

Maryann walked in. She looked terrible, and was wearing only a dressing gown. "The phone rung, didn't it? Who was- oh, _shit_," She went to her husband and sat down next to him. "Tim? Was it your- was it Zoe? What did she have to..."

The room was filling up: Robbie, Anna, Gerald and Celeste came in. Maryann fell almost silent.

"Tim, did she tell you..."

"He's dead," Tim said coldly. "She identified his body the other day. Killed in one of the fires."

"Oh, God-"

"No, God doesn't care," Tim said fiercely. He got up, looked around like a lost thing, and sat back down again. "_She's _alive, though. Not fair, is it?"

No-one spoke. Tim looked at them all apart from Ray, and left the room. Rachel moved to go after him- she was the only one who did. Ray stopped her.

"I think he wants to be alone."

"How do you know?"

The awful _irritation _he felt at that threatened to overwhelm him. "Just...leave him for a bit, Rachel."

Robbie nodded. His eyes were closed and he was leaning against a sofa cushion in despair. "He'll be down eventually...someone make him something to eat..."

Maryann's head was in her hands. She looked like she was crying very quietly, and she probably was. Rachel held Ray's arm.

"It isn't fair on him," she said quietly.

Ray looked around the room. Celeste was _staring _at him- it was an unsettling, challenging sort of stare.

"I know," he answered.

"What are we going to do?"

"That, I doubt anyone knows," Gerald answered for him.

Maryann gave a sob. It was one of those awful _everything's-gone-to-hell _sobs, and it made the whole room quiet.

Anna, businesslike as usual, put a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, Maryann. You need rest-"

"_Shut up, Mother_!"

Anna literally jumped back as if she'd been stung.

"I'm going to go upstairs," Maryann said breathlessly. "Ray, will you help me?"

* * *

He helped her to the bedroom she shared with Tim, but Tim wasn't in there. One of the bathroom doors was closed -a sobbing noise could be faintly heard, no louder than the humming of the electricity.

Maryann sat on the bed.

"I shouldn't have snapped at Mom," she said guiltily. "But it's driving me crazy, stuck in this house."

"S'alright, I understand. Maybe you should sleep or something."

"I don't want to sleep. I want things to go back to normal. Everything was perfect..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if these were things she'd wanted not to say. "Everything was _perfect_, and now...oh god...Joe's dead. I barely knew him and he's dead."

Ray awkwardly put an arm around her.

"I want this to be over," Maryann whispered. "Things are just going to _pieces_."

"No, you still have Tim, and the kids, and your parents, and me..."

"What...what are you trying to say exactly?" With that she sounded better, although still upset, and Ray was encouraged.

"You still have...a lot of people around. I mean, Celeste lost both her kids-"

Maryann gave no reaction to that whatsoever.

"I _am _trying to make you feel better, Maryann."

She said nothing.

"Is it working?"

She gave another sob of despair, jerked away from him and collapsed on the pillows. Ray patted her shoulder gingerly. And Tim, a pathetic wad of tissue paper crumpled up in his hand, chose that moment to come in.

Maryann looked up at him.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry..." She moved herself up to a sitting position. "Tim? I know I don't have...as much reason to cry as you do."

"I never said anything like that to you," Tim said cooly. "You cry the whole fucking house down- I don't care. Get the hell away from my wife, Ray," he added.

Ray opted not to.

"Tim? Calm down." he said evenly. "Please."

Tim just stood there shaking.

"Someone needs to go food shopping," he finally said. "I'll go. We need milk and bread and all that stuff. And soap. And shampoo." His voice was getting flatter and flatter.

"You mustn't go out on your own, Tim," Maryann said, her voice trembling but firm. "Get someone else to go with you. Ray, would you-"

"No," Tim said fiercely. "_No_. Not with anyone, especially not _him_. I'll see you later."

"Tim! _No_!"

She tried to get off the bed, but Ray grabbed her hand.

"He'll be okay. I swear. He'll come right back."

She wrenched her hand away and didn't collapse or cry or anything- just sat there. Ray attempted to hold her hand again.

"It'll be fine. He'll come back. I swear, Maryann."

Maryann just lay back on the bed.

"I'm sick of all this," she said. "I want it to be over."

"Yeah," he said lamely, and lay down next to her.

They remained like that for a while.

"You know," Maryann said finally, "it's funny that it took an alien invasion to make us friendly again." She didn't laugh, just shifted over a little.

Ray shrugged.

"You used to hate me, Maryann. You remember? I'm surprised we..." He trailed off. "That we even got so far."

"Mmmm. Well. I didn't hate you."

"You did too."

"No. I just hated the sort of stuff you _did_."

"Oh."

They lay there in silence, the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows. It was very nearly peaceful.

"Where's Celeste?" Maryann asked. "You ought to keep an eye on her, you know I don't want-" She sat up and turned away. "Where is she and what's she doing? You'd better go downstairs."

* * *

He found Celeste watching the television. It wasn't the news, it was an episode of _Friends_. Rachel and Robbie were in the kitchen, making themselves a meal.

"Tim said we might as well finish off the food, since he was going out for more," Rachel said nervously. "But we're not eating _all _of it. He was sort of..."

"Mad?" Ray said bleakly. He sat down and took a taste of the food. "Mm. Good. Did you make this, Robbie?"

"Yeah," Robbie said. He looked very unhappy, and didn't turn around from his place by the oven. "Tim wouldn't let me come. Or Granny or anyone. He just _left_. What if-"

"Nothing will happen to Tim," Ray said firmly. Then again, it was always easy to say that about people you felt nothing for.

"Is Mom okay?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah," Ray said. "Yeah, she's better. Sort of."

"I can't stop worrying," Rachel said. "I keep feeling that...you know...something big is gonna happen soon. I know that sounds stupid," she added.

"It doesn't sound stupid in the least."

* * *

Tim returned in less than three hours. He had milk, bread, cereal, assorted tinned things, fruit, soap and shampoo. And not much else.

"This," Ray said, "is not going to last us very long."

Tim shrugged listlessly. "We have water, at least. I can always get more food."

"Tim," Rachel said, "has something...else...happened?" She was clutching her toy horse, looking very young.

Tim looked at Ray, who was after all the only adult in the room.

"I don't think...Rachel, I don't think you ought to hear it."

"Everyone says that." she answered.

Tim looked away from them, staring desperately at the window. He took a deep breath. "Lots of dead bodies downtown," he mumbled. "Like a massacre. It's anarchy."

"Anarchy?" Rachel didn't know that word.

"Chaos. People doing whatever they want, taking advantage of all this to just _kill_...it wasn't good..."

He put his head in his hands and sunk to the floor then.

"The prisons were destroyed in the chaos, weren't they? So surviving murderers and rapists are out on the streets. No-one's in authority, apart from the people who want to blow the world up. Oh _God_..."

Ray offered a hand to help him up, although not because he particularly wanted to. Rachel looked horrorstruck.

"Tim, did you get hurt?"

"No, I was fine..."

They all stood around saying nothing for a couple of seconds- Ray then noticed that Robbie had been standing in the door.

"We're just _screwed_, aren't we?" Robbie said desperately.


	15. I Promise

**Survival  
**_15. I Promise_

Ray was the only one in the entire house who got any sleep that night, and he felt bad about that later, even though it had really just been one big nightmare.

_Drrrrriiiiiing. Drrrrriiiiiing. Drrrrriiiiiing._

The house was dark and quiet, and he kept expecting noise...every five minutes he woke up and expected noise.

_Drrrrriiiiiing. Drrrrriiiiiing. Drrrrriiiiiing._

He hoped the dreams wouldn't get any worse.

_He picked up the phone._

_"Hello, Ray," came Maryann's voice._

_"Oh. Hello." She hadn't rung him in almost a month; what the hell did she want now?_

_"Kids alright?" he asked._

_"Yeah. They're fine."_

_Pause._

_"They're the reason I'm calling, though," she went on, in a tone that strongly suggested she wouldn't be speaking to him otherwise. "School Christmas play. In a few weeks. They both have parts. Now, I told them you'd be working, and you couldn't come. Are you going to prove me wrong?"_

_"Yeah," he said, infuriated with her already. "I'm working. Sorry."_

_"I thought so."_

_There was an awkward silence and Ray wished she would hang up._

_"Well. Me and my new partner will be going," she finally said._

_"Your new what?"_

_"I'm not sure how it's your business," she said, making Ray want to demand why on earth she was telling him, then, "but I've met somebody else, Ray."_

_"What are you on about? Where did you meet him?"_

_Silence._

_"I met him at the theatre," she said finally._

_"The theatre? What the hell? You never go to the theatre!"_

_"No," she said, "It's not really the sort of thing you'd take me to, is it?"_

_Furious, he geared himself up to really yell at her- and then he heard Rachel's voice on the line._

_"Mom, you're talking to Dad, aren't you? Can I talk to him?"_

_"I'm sorry, honey," Maryann said, with a vindictive note in her voice that only he could recognize. "He just hung up."_

_Livid, he threw the phone againest the wall. It didn't break- but it was only because he didn't have the money for a new phone that he picked it up and put it back on the hook._

_"Bitch," he muttered to himself. "Total bitch-"_

"Ray!"

Someone was shaking him.

"Ray! Wake up, you asshole! For God's sake!"

He woke up. Anna blurred into vision- she was almost crying, and was raising her hand to slap Ray around the face.

"I'm awake, alright? What is it?"

"It's Maryann," she said. "She's having the baby. Tim's taken her to hospital."

* * *

The journey to the hospital was the second-worst journey of Ray's life.

They left Celeste at the house- she seemed not to mind- and walked all the way. Anna knew what hospital it was. She explained everything on the way: Tim had phoned the doctor whose phone number they'd been given, and had been told directions to a good hospital. Everything would be fine, he had said. Everything would be fine.

It was a long way to walk, but they had no other car, and there were no buses. No-one was willing to risk a taxi: there had been rumors on the news about people getting in taxis only to be threatened and robbed. Or worse.

They walked for an hour, stopping to rest only a few times. There were still lots of people out on the street, and soldiers, and eventually Rachel started to cry.

"What is it, Rachel?" Robbie asked.

"They might not let Mom in the hospital," she said, sniffing. "There's too many people- we saw them- everyone's hurt because of the _aliens_. It's not like normal, it's never gonna be normal anymore."

"Calm down, Rachel-"

"I _can't_."

"Rachel. Mom will be fine. She's got Tim with her, and things _are _gonna go back to normal. They are already, see- we've got electricity and everything."

"But the hospital is full!"

"Rachel," Ray said, "She'll be fine. I _promise_."

* * *

The hospital was indeed full.

There were people hanging around outside- a few of them had even pitched tents. Ray tried his hardest to make eye contact with no-one until they got through the door.

Inside it was worse, though. It wasn't the people...it was the _atmosphere_. The entire place gave off a feeling of impending doom: a feeling of _sorry, but we couldn't help you, and we'll never be able to help you again._

Anna marched up to the nearest offical-looking person.

"I'm looking for my daughter. She was just-"

"Sorry, can't help you," the man said flatly, and hurried off. Anna stared after him, utterly gobsmacked.

"Listen!" she shouted after him. "I _am looking for my daughter. _My _one remaining _daughter..."

But he didn't come back.

"Where is she?" Rachel whispered. "Where's Mom?"

"I...don't worry, Rach, we'll find her."

"Let's start looking, then," Robbie said.

"Anna!" Gerald called. She was still staring at the retreating man, as if considering slitting his throat with her fingernails. "Anna, dear, let's go..."

"Go where?" Anna demanded.

"Anywhere. We'll find someone else to ask, it all looks a little busy round here..."

"HEY!" someone shouted.

"_Tim_!" shrieked Rachel, who had been looking the other way. Ray silently decided he'd never been so glad to see him in his entire life, and ran to him with the others.

"Where's Mom?" Rachel asked. When he didn't answer she said it again, her voice high and frightened, "Where's Mom?"

"Tim?" Robbie said warily. "Tim, is she alright?"

"I don't know," Tim whispered.

* * *

And then there was the waiting.

Tim led them all to a dull white corridor. It had benches, but people were sitting on them- people were sitting on the floor as well. There was one woman in a corridor, sobbing quietly to herself. She was clutching something in her right hand- it looked like an earring, or some other piece of jewellery. Ray was reminded of Celeste.

He almost went to talk to her, but couldn't bring himself to. Mostly because Rachel was sitting on his lap, and crying. Robbie was trying vainly to reassure her.

"Rachel, she'll be alright. I know she's gonna be alright. Could you listen to me for a moment? _Please_, Rachel. Just look at me, at least. I'm your _brother_, and I'm telling you..."

"You weren't thinking of any of that when you ran off and left!" Rachel finally snapped. She said nothing else, but Robbie turned away, hurt.

"Kids," Ray said helplessly. "don't fight. I know you think you have reason to, but..." He trailed off. He glanced at Tim, who was sitting a bit away from them, staring into space.

Anna, who was sitting next to him, saw him looking.

"He's been through a lot," she said. "If you start on him..."

"I wasn't going to. Why would I want to?" Ray said angrily. He changed the subject. "Kids? Are you hungry? Is anyone hungry?"

Both of them shook their heads.

"Chances are, it'll be hard to get food, anyway," Gerald spoke up.

"True."

* * *

An agonizing couple of hours passed. Ray wanted to sleep, but he knew he couldn't. He wondered to himself- what would he be doing, if this was a normal day? Going to work, moving stuff about, going home, watching TV, drinking and sleeping. And that would be it, and he'd been doing it every day until _that _day.

That Day. He wondered what things might have been like had it never happened...

Someone came out to talk to Tim. They conferred in low whispers, Tim standing up with difficulty. Then the man went away again, and Tim just looked at them all.

Rachel jumped to her feet.

"Did he say if she's alright? Tim...?"

"Yes, she is," Tim whispered, his voice full of utter relief. Anna hugged her husband, he hugged her back, and Robbie just stared at the ceiling as if unable to believe he was allowed this much luck.

Ray knew the feeling.

"And the baby?" Rachel asked. "What about the baby? Is it okay?"

"She," Tim said quietly. "It's a she. And I don't know- they don't know, either."

* * *

For the rest of the day they waited. Robbie and Rachel finally ate- Gerald found someone selling candy bars. It was obvious no-one was hungry, but they ate because they had to.

They weren't allowed to see Maryann, despite them all requesting it. They were kept updated on the conditions of both patients: Maryann was perfectly stable, but the baby...

"Listen, Ray," Tim said, pulling him aside as they all lurked in the corridor. It was starting to get dark. "You'll have to stay here tonight, because I don't want the kids going out after dark. But tomorrow, you all go home. This isn't good for them. I'm going to stay, though. And eventually...eventually we'll all come home."

"Okay," Ray said. "The baby..."

"What?"

"I don't know anything about these things. What's going to happen to it? Um, her? What if..."

"No what ifs, please," Tim whispered in desperation. "I just can't take it."

* * *

They slept in the corridor that night. It was immensely difficult, but they did it. Tim was the only one who got no sleep at all- Ray knew because every time he woke up, Tim was just sitting there, staring into space.

Losing both his son and his daughter...would it just destroy him? Ray didn't know. Would whatever had happened to Celeste, and undoubtably countless others, happen to him as well?

No, he told himself. The baby would be fine. They'd all be fine. Except for Tim's son, of course, and Celeste's kids, and millions upon millions of others, and their families.

Torturing himself somewhat with that thought, he went back to sleep.

* * *

When he woke up Tim was looking at him.

"They're still not letting anyone see Maryann," he said flatly. "You lot, you really ought to go now. Tell the kids that their mother will be fine- I _promise_."

* * *

So they made the journey home. They were stopped only once, by a man with no hair and ripped clothes- he offered to sell them bottles of medicine. "It's in the air," he said menacingly. "The aliens are in the air. Our germs killed them so the same can happen to us. It's not expensive, this stuff-"

"Go away," Ray hissed, and they all ran past him. He made no attempt to follow. Robbie and Ray shared a glance.

"Don't listen to people like him, Rachel," Robbie said. "He's insane."

Rachel said nothing.

They reached the house, eventually, and Gerald opened the door for them. Once he had assured Maryann's parents that she was okay, Ray then remembered- Celeste was there.

"Celeste?" he called.

Celeste came running out of the living room. She was still wearing the same clothes she'd been in when they'd left.

"I thought you weren't coming back," she said breathlessly.

"No," Ray answered. "We were."

Robbie and Rachel headed upstairs, and Anna and Gerald headed for the kitchen.

"Where's your ex-wife?" Celeste asked. "Maryann. That was it. Where is she? And her husband..."

"Still at the hospital." Ray answered shortly. "They're both fine, but I don't know about the baby. They'll be back...whenever they can."

She nodded.

"I was watching the TV. It's awful. Lots of fighting."

"I can imagine." He was about to question her about it, but changed his mind. "I don't want to know."

* * *

Another sleepless night.

The kids didn't sleep either. Anna and Gerald and Celeste all did, but the remaining three stayed awake, and played board games.

And it was good, it was a good evening, for him at least...even though the aliens had killed half the world and Tim's son was dead and Maryann was in hospital. Even though it was astonishing that they were alive at all. The nightmare should still be going on, but it _wasn't_.

Ray didn't know why.

"I wonder," Robbie said thoughtfully.

"What?" Rachel asked.

"If they're ever gonna show _ET _on the television again."

Ray snorted. "Don't think so."

Rachel almost laughed, but stopped herself. "I want Mom to be home," she said. "I don't like her being some place else."

"Yeah, I know, Rachel," Robbie said.

They carried on playing- the game was _Monopoly_. It was missing several pieces.

"I kinda wish I was home," Rachel said sadly. "I mean, at Mom's house. My house. I had all my stuff there."

"I had a computer. Built it myself." Robbie said. "Suppose I'll have to build a new one. Ur, eventually."

Ray found he could say nothing to that- they all knew that the world had changed irretrievably, and that there was quite possibly no 'eventually' about it.

"I want to know," Rachel said carefully, "whether my friends are dead or not. That's why I want to get home."

Robbie nodded.

"Someone will have lived," Ray said. "Someone you guys know. Your friends. Um, statistically, they pretty much..."

Robbie shook his head. "Even if they're alive, I might not ever know."

Rachel rolled the dice and moved her piece along. She landed on GO TO JAIL. "That pretty lady at the ferry," she said thoughtfully. "Before the tripods came. The one who didn't...um...was she one of your friends, Dad?"

_The one who didn't make it. _Ray felt horrendously guilty all of a sudden; surely it would have been _so easy_ to have helped her onto the ferry...but then she might have died anyway. Died in an even worse way.

"Yeah. That was Cheryl. She used to be a secretary, where I worked. Nice girl."

Robbie looked at him.

"She might not be dead," Ray said with a sigh. "_We_ got away. She might have jumped in the water and swum off, or...hid in a cellar, or something."

"She had her daughter with her," Robbie said.

"Well."

He sighed again.

Before long they'd finished the game, and they all sat on the sofa.

"You'd better go to bed now," Ray told them. "Your mother will probably be home tomorrow."

"Yeah," Robbie said.

But they stayed on the sofa. Ray looked at the clock: it was quarter to midnight.

"Robbie?" Rachel ventured. "I'm sorry about...whatever it was I said to you at the hospital."

Robbie shook his head. "I probably deserved it."

"No, you didn't. Dad said people do weird things during disasters."

"I feel like an idiot," Robbie said fiercely, "whenever I think about it."

"It's over now, Robbie. It's the past."

* * *

The kids went to bed, and Ray slept on the sofa. He was sleeping fine, without nightmares at all, when he was woken up.

It was Robbie.

"I'm having bad dreams," he muttered.

"What about, Robbie?" Ray sat up, and pulled the blankets off him.

"The usual things," Robbie said uncertainly. "It's nukes, these days. You know, ever since I saw the news...I can't stop thinking about it."

"Oh."

"And the guy I pointed a gun at...all that time ago. I think he's dead, you know, he probably is...I keep dreaming about the dust suddenly becoming people again, _dead _people..."

Ray shuddered.

"That...sounds pretty bad..."

"Yeah," Robbie muttered.

"How long's this been going on?"

"Well, all the time, kinda...you know."

Ray considered. "D'ya want to stay down here and watch TV, or something?"

"No. I don't want to do anything," Robbie muttered. "I just want to sleep properly...and for Mom and Tim to get back, of course."

"How about talking?" Ray suggested. "You could just talk."

Robbie blinked at him, and said slowly, "I wouldn't know what to say, except...I'm sorry, I guess."

Ray was surprised. "You're sorry?"

"Yeah. I don't remember ever saying that...I'm sorry for running off and being an idiot."

"Well, I'm sorry for...you know..." He thought about it. "For not paying attention, not coming to your Christmas plays, and all that."

Robbie shrugged. "The last Christmas play was crap. All the scenery fell down."

"All of it?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause in the conversation.

"I'll go back to bed," Robbie said uncertainly. "'Night. And thanks."

* * *

Of course, after that the nightmares came...they were bearable, for the most part. In all of them he was looking for Maryann, and in all of them he couldn't find her. He knew she was near, but he couldn't see her, and he figured it was because she was keeping her distance from him.

It was very dusty. The dust folded itself into random shapes: a chair, a computer, a candy bar. On seeing the candy bar he knew, vaguely, in some tiny part of his mind, that it was just a dream, but his body wouldn't let him wake up just yet.

He started running to get away from the dust. People burst into form beside him: Matt, Cheryl and her daughter, some young man he assumed was Tim's son Joe, his old friends from work, his brother and sister-in-law...

_Right_, the functional part of his brain demanded. _That's going too far. Wake up._

He woke up.

He was surprised to find he wasn't as scared as he perhaps should have been. Just because in his dreams all those people had been dead didn't mean they were. Sure, Matt and Joe were, but the others...Cheryl might not be, and his brother...he didn't know.

He stayed up until morning.


	16. Serena

**Survival**  
_16. Serena_

At one o' clock the next day, when everyone was finishing their pitifully small meals- Ray heard a car pull up outside. And the others heard it too.

Without even saying a word, they hurried to the front door. Before they got there, it opened- Tim was on the other side. He looked utterly different to how he'd looked when they last saw him. Throughly broken. Just like Celeste, in fact.

"Hold on a minute," he said quietly. He went to the car, opened the boot, took a wheelchair out and unfolded it. Robbie went to help, but Tim barely acknowledged him. He took the chair around to Maryann's side of the car, and helped her into it.

"Oh my god, Mom," Robbie whispered. "Are you..."

"I'll be alright, Robbie," Maryann said, in the same tone of voice Tim had used. "Just might not be able to walk for a bit. I'm a bit...worn out."

Rachel's eyes flickered between her mother and her stepdad.

"What about...?" she whispered.

Maryann managed, unbelieveably, to smile at Rachel. "Just go inside, sweetheart. And you, Robbie. Wait for me to get in."

Rachel turned and went inside, Robbie following, and Ray went with them. Outside Anna started talking frantically, but Ray couldn't hear her, and he was sure she was saying nothing useful.

Before long Tim had helped Maryann inside and to a sofa, and the others had taken seats- apart from Anna, who was leaning against the doorframe with fury in her eyes, and apart from Celeste, who had gathered that she wasn't wanted and stayed in the kitchen.

Maryann spoke first. "I'm sorry, kids."

"You mean..." Robbie said.

"They couldn't save it," Maryann went on. "_Her_. Couldn't save _her_. They buried her in the cemetery they had outside, they said we could rebury her when things were..."

She trailed off.

The room was silent.

"That's just not _fair_," Robbie said, almost in wonder, and he went out of the room. Rachel tried to grab his leg as he went past, but on failing, ran after him instead. "Don't!" she was yelling. "You'll make things harder!"

Tim stood up to go after them, and Ray stood up too- but then Celeste came in, stopping them all in their tracks.

"I'm so sorry," she said, looking at Maryann and no one else. "I know what it must feel like."

Maryann smiled weakly at her. "Thank you."

Celeste went to the opposite side of the room and sat down, leaning against the wall. "Tim? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Tim said, not looking at her. Ray glanced around at everyone: Gerald in particular looked about to cry. It occured to Ray then that he was the only person in the room who hadn't lost a child.

And it would remain that way.

"I'd like you to leave the room, young lady," Anna said cooly to Celeste. "This is a family matter."

Celeste looked at Ray. He shook his head.

"Maybe you should go," he said.

Celeste dropped her gaze to the floor and left. Anna closed the door after her.

"So where do we go from here?" she asked fiercely.

"I don't know, Mother," Maryann replied.

"I suggest we..." Gerald began, but his wife cut him off.

"Where was she buried, Maryann? Don't we get a proper funeral?"

"No. Not yet," she answered flatly.

"Why couldn't they save her?" Anna demanded.

Tim answered that one. "Shortage of equipment. Some of it sabotaged by the deranged. The stress. The shock. The fact that _nobody _out there knows how to cope. All those reasons and probably more. Maybe something would have gone wrong anyway, how do we know?" His voice was very cold-and Maryann was blinking frantically.

"_Well_," Anna said fiercely. "They-"

"Mother, we don't have some sort of get-out-of-jail free card," Maryann said fiercely. "Everyone is in the same boat. Everyone around here, anyway- maybe things are better in other places. But why should _I _have the sort of luck others don't...you know?"

Anna pursed her lips.

"I'm going to go upstairs," Tim said, out of the blue. "Sorry."

He opened the door- Celeste was standing on the other side, eavesdropping.

"Out of the way, bitch," he muttered, and went past her.

"Tim!" Ray yelled furiously. "Don't be a c-"

"Enough, Ray," Maryann said tiredly. Outside the room, Celeste walked quietly away.

"I can't take all this," Anna muttered. "I just can't. Miriam and now my grandaughter. This is _too much_."

"Ray," Maryann said, ignoring her, "I want to be alone right now. Alone and in my own bed. Can you carry me upstairs?"

"_Carry _you upstairs?"

"I can't walk, can I?"

* * *

So he carried her upstairs. They got to the bedroom, but Tim was in there, so he took her to the spare room. He sat her down on the bed, and sat next to her.

"So," he said.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Maryann. I really am. Really, really sorry."

"Yeah. I know."

They sat glumly on the bed.

"What were you going to call her?" Ray asked. "I mean, what did you call her?"

"It didn't begin with a R, although I thought about it," Maryann said, not smiling. "Serena. I was going to call her Serena. And if it was a boy it was going to be Mark, after Tim's father."

"Oh."

"They let me choose a gravestone. They'd made some. They're running out. I was lucky to get one."

Ray nodded.

"Oh god, Ray, I don't _believe _it. And I can't even walk at the moment." Her emotions were starting to bubble over. "Oh god. I can't believe I'm so calm. What about Tim? What if he does something crazy? He's...you heard him, he's...lost almost everything..."

She trembled.

"Yeah, I know," Ray said, at a loss.

"Oh, _god_..."

She lay down: she was able to do that. "I don't believe this. It hasn't sunk in yet. Ray, go and check on the kids, would you?"

He left her there and went. They were in their bedroom. Robbie was staring glumly out of the window, Rachel was on the bed reading a book. Or maybe just pretending to.

They both looked at him when he came in.

"Your mom is fine," Ray said quickly. "As much as she can be."

Rachel nodded, then said nervously,as if afraid of offending him, "What about Tim?"

"I don't know."

"They both want to be left alone, don't they?" Robbie said.

"Yeah. I think everyone does."

* * *

Ray went back to Maryann, and found she'd pulled the covers over herself and was trying to go to sleep.

"You don't want me to turn out like Celeste, do you?" she asked, looking hard at him. "I won't."

"No. No, of course not...you're different from her..."

"I _want _to be. I'm going to sleep."

She closed her eyes, just like that. Ray looked at her for a bit and then went downstairs.

That was the difference between people like Celeste and people like Maryann: _want_. Probably.

* * *

He sat alone in the living room for a bit. No-one disturbed him. Tim was upstairs, Anna and Gerald were in the kitchen, Maryann was asleep, the kids were in their bedroom. That only left...

Celeste wandered in.

"Hello," she whispered.

"You don't have to whisper, Celeste- I'm sorry I told you to leave. Back there."

"It doesn't matter," she said, her voice still quiet. "Nothing much seems to matter now."

"Right," Ray said hopelessly.

"It would have been Jessica's birthday in two days," Celeste went on. "December the second."

Dear god, was it nearly December already?

"Oh. I'm...sorry, Celeste."

She shook her head. "I'm beginning to get it, you know. We all have things to be sorry for." She sounded more normal than she ever had- just very depressed, as well. Maybe, once things had cleared up- assuming they would- he should take her to a hospital, and get her looked at. Treated.

"Yeah," he said, "We all do."

"What are you sorry for?" she asked. She seemed to be listening carefully. Ray actually felt rather uncomfortable.

"Um. I'm sorry...about my brother and his family, and my parents as well. I dunno where they are- if they survived."

Celeste nodded.

"But," she said hopelessly. "the children...that's the worst..."

"Yeah. I know. I thought Robbie had died..."

"But he didn't, did he?"

"No, he didn't."

Celeste played with her hair. "You're so _lucky_, Ray."


	17. Things Of This Earth

**Survival**  
_17. Things Of This Earth_

Even though Ray and Celeste were the only people in the household who knew it was Jessica's birthday, a hideous gloom seemed to settle on everybody on December the second. Rachel complained of feeling sick, sending all the adults bar Celeste into a horrible panic until a few hours later she announced she felt alright again.

By lunchtime, Ray was desperate for the day to be over. But it dragged on as all bad days did: there was nothing on the television and certainly no good news. Tim was nowhere to be seen all day: he was hiding in his bedroom doing nothing. Maryann got downstairs with help from her father and sat on the sofa all day, reading and eating and fending off anxious questions about her health.

"I'll be fine. I swear I will."

"They should have kept you in the hospital." Anna said bitterly.

"Yes, they should, but there are thousands of people out there and they need the beds. I'll be fine. Alright?"

Things between all of them in the house seemed to be becoming subtly tenser every day. Everyone seemed to be sniping at each other over little things- even Gerald, who was generally the calmest person in the house.

Ray was going mad.

"Do we need to go shopping?" he asked Anna when he bumped into her in the kitchen. "Anything we need..."

"No," Anna snapped. "I went early morning yesterday, when you were still asleep. Just to the nearest shop. I took the gun for self-defense."

"What did you get?"

"Chips, chicken nuggets, some...noodles or something. Not much. But can you blame me?" She was shouting, so Ray backed away. He left her in the kitchen- it looked like they were all going mad in their own way.

* * *

Tim ventured down in the afternoon. He turned down any food and spoke to everyone to everyone in the dining room without really looking at anyone.

"If you look out of the window in my room, you can see a riot."

"What?" Robbie said.

"There are people screaming and shouting and shooting each other. I don't know why and I don't want to find out. Just thought I'd, you know, warn everyone..."

He turned and walked upstairs again.

"I have decided I hate people," Robbie said glumly.

"No you don't," Rachel said. "That's just a _few _people out there. Everyone else is like us, hiding in the houses."

Robbie said nothing.

"You're not going to...try and go out and fight them...?" Rachel said fearfully.

"There's no point, is there?"

Ray took a bite of his food- it was pizza. It wasn't very nice. "Robbie, if you do," he said with his mouth full, "I will...not let you."

"Very eloquent," Anna said from across the table, in an unpleasant tone. "And don't talk with your mouth full."

Ray wanted to snap _I'm not your goddamn child _at her, but since one of her children was actually probably dead...it didn't seem like the right thing to do.

* * *

A few hours after lunch Ray thought he heard gunshots. But no-one came running into the room to say they'd heard them too, so he didn't mention them to anyone.

But someone was probably dead out there now. The outside world was becoming more dangerous every day. They were surely risking their lives every time they went shopping for food. Before long, maybe the authorities would bring out the nuclear weapons and lay waste to the world. Or maybe they'd take the leftover fighting machines- find out how they worked and turn the planet to dust.

He was very hungry. Food was running low. He was also rather bored- although _boredom _was not a feeling generally associated with the end of the world. Or perhaps...since he'd brought down an alien war machine, saved his daughter, made it home, and survived all that there was to survive, he now didn't understand what boredom felt like?

He turned the television on. On one channel there were the closing credits of a movie, or another there was a Mickey Mouse cartoon, and on another there was news.

"Rumors are spreading of a base in Japan where at least one tripod is fully functioning with a human pilot. Please bear in mind this is _only a rumor_, there is no offical word..."

He hated being right. He cursed to himself and turned off the TV.

"Seem to be trying so hard to blow us to hell, don't they?" said a voice he didn't recognize. He turned around and it was Tim, looking even worse than he had previously.

"Looks like it."

"You look bored."

"Oh. No, I'm not. Believe me."

Tim sat down next to him. He smelled like he hadn't washed in days, and he probably hadn't.

"I suppose Maryann told you what we were going to name the baby."

"Yeah. Mark or Serena. Nice names," Ray said quickly.

"Mark was my father's name. I wanted to have a kid to name after him so bad. If it was a girl I wanted to call it Marcia, or something, but Maryann wouldn't let me. She said if it was a girl it had to be Serena."

"Right."

"Dad died last year. Before all this happened. He'd have hated it. Died rather than live like this, hiding in a house."

"Yeah," Ray said hopelessly.

"Mom died from cancer. Years ago. So neither of them saw us go to hell. What about your parents?"

Ray gawped at him. What made him think Ray even wanted to talk about his parents?

"Dunno. They're dead, I suppose."

"Tried to find them?"

"I dialled their house number. I dialled every number connected with them. Nothing worked."

Tim shrugged. "Well. Sorry."

"Thanks," Ray said wearily.

There was a silence which he was extremely grateful for.

* * *

It got dark quickly, and Celeste came to talk to him after the moon came out.

"I want to go outside," she said.

"Well, you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because there's a crashed helicopter in the back yard, and too many dangerous people in the street."

"We could sit on the doorstep. I just want some fresh air."

Ray looked around- no-one else was downstairs. Robbie and Rachel were watching videos upstairs- there was another TV up there- and Gerald was in the attic looking for something. He didn't know where everyone else was.

"Alright. The doorstep. Fine."

He went to the door, opened it, and sat down. The air was cold outside, and the step was freezing. There were no people in the street, although some houses had lights on, but there was faint shouting in the distance.

Celeste joined him.

"I bet you think I'm mad," she said carefully. "I didn't know it was this cold outside. You can go in if you want to."

"No. I'm fine."

He knew she was about to mention Jessica, and wondered what she would say exactly. He also wondered how on earth he'd be able to answer.

"I feel sorry for your friends," Celeste said.

"My friends?"

"Maryann and Tim. Are they your friends? I didn't know how else to describe them."

"Maryann's my friend. Sort of. Tim isn't."

"He's very upset," Celeste said.

"I know." Ray was surprised at this turn of events- surely Celeste had cared for no-one but herself since she'd come to the house. Or maybe he was just forgetting, because he didn't really know her.

"I think I am going mad," Celeste said. "Ray, I need your help. I'm so _hopeless_. I tried to kill myself once..."

"Whoa, you did?"

"When I was married to the man who beat me. He was the worst man...worst _animal_ you could imagine. He once threatened to put the kids in the car and drive them over a cliff."

"Jesus."

"But I escaped. With the kids. I could escape from things of this earth. That's not so bad, is it?"

He knew what she was trying to say: _I'm not as weak as you think, and I don't want to be mad. Please._

"No."

"Thank you for looking after me, Ray," she said, and sort of leaned into him. He put his arm around her awkwardly.

And thought of something to say.

"Celeste, listen to me. You're gonna survive. You'll grow old, and you'll tell your story to millions of people, and you'll never forget your children and all that you've lost but you'll be strong, alright? You'll be strong because of them. I know it's hard, alright, but..._you will live_, Celeste. You will live."

Celeste stared at him, and then she just sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Ray. For everything."

"S'alright. You're getting better, Celeste. I'm proud of you."

He gave her a proper hug.

And his words would sound horribly, _desperately_ ironic come ten 'o clock the next day.


	18. The Land Of Those Who Live

**Survival**  
_18. The Land Of Those Who Live_

It was ten minutes to ten o' clock, December the third.

_Will you marry me?_

Nothing was going on. Ray was half-asleep on the sofa, remembering things, and the kids were playing Operation. The television wasn't on. It was fairly quiet.

_"I'm supposed to say that," Ray said, amazed. "I'm supposed to ask you. Not the other way around."_

_"So?"_

_It was three weeks before Christmas. It was freezing cold, and nine o' clock at night. They were standing outside a dance hall, and Ray could still hear the music, although the doors between him and the disco were shut._

_It was not the place where he'd have liked this conversation to have taken place. The party was his great-aunt's ninety-ninth birthday: Maryann had insisted on coming. Ray hadn't wanted to go at all: he didn't even know his great-aunt's name. He was generally apathetic about his distant relatives, and although his great-aunt had hired a disco and provided alcohol, he still wasn't enjoying himself._

_So why on earth..._

_"Why are you asking me here? I mean, I didn't even figure you were enjoying yourself"_

_"I'm with you, aren't I? I enjoy it when I'm with you."_

_He looked at her. He had an odd feeling then, a feeling like he didn't deserve her, and she'd eventually realise that and leave. After all, she used to hate him._

_But for now..._

_"Yeah. Course I'll marry you."_

Someone walked into the room. Ray didn't bother to open his eyes, he figured it was probably Maryann. Whoever it was just sat down on the other end of the sofa.

_Fourteen years later, of course...she was gone._

_Or rather, he was gone. For all sorts of reasons. He couldn't stay in the house any longer, couldn't stay with Maryann any longer, couldn't take it anymore. She'd screamed at him as he walked out with his suitcase, and he had screamed back, and he'd also told the kids that he'd see them again as soon as he could._

_He'd used that old line all divorced parents seemed to use: Mommy and Daddy haven't stopped loving you. They just stopped loving each other. In fact, they hate each other. Hate each other so much they're screwing you up too..._

_He hadn't said all of that, but he'd felt like it._

_He'd got a new house, and this was his first night there, and he was getting drunk as hell. A couple of his friends had dropped by, then they'd figured he didn't want company and left again._

_In the middle of being drunk as hell, he looked at the clock and realised it was Rachel's bedtime. He went to the phone and dialled the number for his old house. He managed to press the right buttons. Maryann answered._

_"I want to talk to my goddamn daughter," he said._

_"Ray, you're drunk." she said, and hung up._

_He felt incredibly depressed then, and he didn't bother trying to phone again, even when he was sober._

_He just gave up._

The kids were being quiet...

He opened his eyes and sat up. The person who'd come in wasn't Maryann, it was Celeste. She was sitting there playing with her sleeve, and looking very depressed. Robbie and Rachel were still playing their game, but they kept casting anxious glances at her.

"Hello, Celeste." Ray said to her. He glanced at the wall clock: five minutes to ten. He hadn't had any breakfast, and was hungry. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, and then started crying. She didn't wipe the tears off her face or anything. Robbie and Rachel glanced at her, then turned away, probably figuring their father would take care of it.

"Celeste?" Ray said. "What's wrong? I mean, what's wrong now?"

"It's what you said yesterday," she sniffed. "About being strong. I'm not, Ray. I'm not."

"Yes you are," he said, softly as he could. "What made you think otherwise?"

She kept crying.

"Oh, god, Celeste...listen, go get something to eat, okay? It might make you feel better. I'll come with you."

"No!" she said with a sob. "You don't understand. You got to keep everyone-nearly everyone, anyway, and I lost them all. Even my parents are dead. _Everyone _is. How can you get what I'm going through?"

"Calm _down_."

He was mildly shocked at himself- he really hadn't meant to say that. But, stupidly, he carried on. "You're not the only one, Celeste. Millions of people have lost everything. Hell, just look at Tim. He lost a son and a daughter, too. You're being selfish."

Celeste's expression changed. It changed to an expression Ray couldn't remember even seeing on her: anger. Fury.

"_I'm _selfish?" she whispered. "I've talked to Tim, you know. You walked out on your kids! That's one thing _I _never did!"

"Celeste..."

Robbie opened his mouth to say something, but Ray noticed and cut him off.

"Celeste, I'm not gonna get mad at you, alright? Just go...go and eat, or sleep, or something."

Celeste looked at Ray, then at Robbie, then at Rachel. And then she turned around, played with her sleeve for a split second, and left the room.

"My God," Robbie said. He looked worried. "She's _nuts_, that one."

Ray could only nod his head.

"I'm sorry, kids," he said.

"That's alright," Rachel said. "Wasn't your fault."

Ray looked at the clock. One minute to ten o' clock. Maybe he should go and get washed and have some breakfast. He lay down on the sofa again, though.

"You don't think...maybe you ought to check on her?" Robbie asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Ray said. "Maybe. But I guess we'd better let her cool off first."

"Are you sure..." Rachel said, but trailed off. Then she plucked up her courage and said, "Are you sure she has to stay...?"

Ray had no answer.

Ten o' clock.

"Do you suppose Tim's...better...today?" Robbie asked. "Maybe he and Celeste should...talk or something..."

"I thought I just heard him coming downstairs," Rachel said.

They heard someone go into the kitchen.

"I think..." Ray began, but then the door opened, and Celeste was standing there.

"Hey, Celeste," Ray began, but then she reached inside her sleeve and pulled something out. It was something metal. A weapon. A gun. Anna's gun.

The situation didn't seem to enter his brain right away. He just goggled at her. Celeste wasn't a murderer- he was. Celeste wasn't crazy- the entire world was. Celeste wasn't...

...couldn't...

"_Dad_!" Rachel screamed, and time seemed to pass in a second. He raced to her and Robbie, and flung himself in front of them best he could. He couldn't stop staring at the gun. This couldn't be happening.

"Celeste, no. Celeste. _Celeste_..."

Time stood temporarily still. It was like being on another planet. It was like that moment when the aliens showed up for the first time. It was like all the worst moments of his life rolled into one.

"I'm going to take something from you now." Celeste said.

"Kids," Ray shouted, "get down!"

They didn't need telling twice. Both of them flung themselves to the floor. Ray didn't, suicidal though he knew it was.

"Right. Celeste? I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything. But you don't want to do this."

She didn't answer. Nothing was getting through to her. Ray took a step in her direction.

"Dad! Don't..." Robbie whispered, and Ray knew the end of that sentence was _...kill her_. He knew that wasn't an option. Unless she...oh god, unless she looked like she was going to open fire on the kids.

No. This couldn't happen. Not here. Not in the one safe place in all the world.

"Celeste. Think of Jessica and Matt...you can't bring them back. You must have gotten that by now. Alright, Celeste. Now, you need to..."

She fired.

Ray felt a horrible explosion of pain somewhere in his arm, felt himself falling backwards, and through half-closed eyes saw the door open. He reached for the kids, putting himself in front of them, and realised it was Tim who'd just raced in.

Celeste had dropped to the floor. She grabbed his leg.

"You don't tell me to do anything!"

Then her hold was gone- Tim had grabbed her. But Celeste was still holding the gun, and the gun was in Tim's face-

"Tim!" Ray yelled.

-and then the gun suddenly _wasn't _in Tim's face, and Ray didn't know where it was, and there were more sounds of running footsteps, and the kids were clinging onto him...

...and then the gun went off.

Ray opened his eyes all the way. He could barely take in anything around him: all he was aware of were Robbie and Rachel behind him. Tim was standing up, very much alive. Celeste was lying on the floor...

Tim had the gun in his hand. He'd taken it off her and shot her. Tim had shot Celeste. Tim was a murderer. Celeste had shot him...

He noticed the pain in his arm for the first time. Blood was dripping everywhere.

He turned to look at the kids. Robbie was just shaking his head, looking pale and about to throw up. Rachel was not crying, just staring ahead and not blinking, just like that time when she was taken by the...

"Is...she..._dead_?" Ray managed to say.

The remaining three people in the house were gathering at the door. Anna and Gerald...and Maryann. All were staring in utter shock.

Tim went to Celeste and checked for a pulse.

"Yes," he said. "She's dead."

Maryann was being supported on her feet by her father, but she broke away from him and took a couple of steps before sinking onto the sofa.

"Tim. Oh god. What have you done?"

"She was going to kill us all," Tim said flatly. "She shot Ray in the arm, would've killed the kids if she could, and had that gun right in my face. What else could I have done?"

Rachel started sobbing then. Robbie put his arms around her.

"Ray," Maryann said dizzily. "You need to do something about that arm..."

Gerald moved from the door and went to him. He examined the arm carefully. "I don't think it's as bad as it looks. Ray, close your eyes a second-"

Ray closed his eyes, and the pain intensified for a few seconds.

"Right. Let me get some bandages. Can't hurt to take you to a doctor, though, later..."

Ray opened his eyes. Tim had pulled himself onto the sofa, next to his wife.

Anna was still staring around in shock.

"Oh, my god. This, in my house...Ray, what in the..."

"She used your gun." Ray said, too shocked to really want to shout at her, but angry nonetheless. "You left your gun lying around and she used it."

"I didn't," Anna said, but from her expression Ray knew she really had, and the guilt was just coming to her. Gerald came in with the bandages, and Robbie and Rachel finally stood up shakily.

"Right," Gerald said firmly, as everyone else was silent. "Let's sort this out." He looked very tired...very like an old man. "Anna, put these on for Ray." He handed her the bandages. "Tim...we need to get the body out. The kids..." He stopped mid-sentence, looked at the kids, and seemed to remember that they had seen much worse than this. "Tim, get up."

Tim, moving like a zombie, got up.

"I'll help you," Robbie said.

"Yes, alright," Gerald said, and Ray didn't object. He went to Rachel and hugged her.

"Are you alright, Rachel?"

"No. I mean yes," she whispered. She was crying a bit. "That was...oh god..."

"I'm so sorry," Ray said, suddenly remembering something. "You warned me, and I didn't listen."

"No...that's..."

But she couldn't get her words out. Ray let her go over to Maryann, who was sobbing hard. Anna was still not moving.

"Anna," Ray called out. "This wasn't your fault."

"Where have they gone with the body?" Anna asked hysterically. She finally remembered about the bandages: she went to Ray and began dressing the wound.

"I don't know. I think they've gone outside, in the back yard."

"There's a crashed heap of wreckage out there!"

"They'll work around it."

He had enough bandages now. He went through to the back yard- Rachel was the only one who followed. Sure enough, that was where they all were- in the grassy part near the house, the only part not covered in helicopter. Gerald and Robbie were digging a small, shallow grave, and Tim was holding the body.

Ray surveyed the wreckage. He'd never been out here before, and it looked...alien.

"I'm going to be arrested for murder," Tim said flatly, probably not even to him. "I killed a woman. Someone will find out, and they'll arrest me."

"They'd have to arrest me too, 'cos I killed a man, didn't I?"

Tim said nothing.

"We're done," Gerald said. Tim went forward, dropped the body in the hole- Ray was annoyed at that, he could have been a little more gentle- and Gerald and Robbie started to cover it all up again.

Ray saw a spade with a broken handle propped up against the wall- he went over to get that, and helped them out. He didn't look at the body. He would work through this all later- he had people to take care of, right now.


	19. Aftermath Of An Aftermath

**Survival**  
_19. Aftermath Of An Aftermath_

Ray sat with Tim on the sofa. Anna, guilt written in every line of her face, had offered to clean up all the blood, and she wouldn't let anyone help her.

Tim had his head in his hands.

"I can't take this all in. It's just entirely too much."

Ray mentally counted on his fingers. The guy was right. Four tramatic events in a row.

"I wasn't even thinking. And if I was thinking, when I pulled that trigger, I was thinking I had nothing left to lose."

That finally jolted Ray from blankness to anger.

"You had _Maryann _to lose! Not to mention the kids!"

Tim just gave a slight nod. "Fine. I was thinking we had no future, then."

His anger gone, pretty much, Ray just stared around the room. "No. We do. Or at least, the kids do. There's always a future. Alright? I'm gonna go now."

* * *

He had nightmares that night, of course. On waking he sat up and just looked around. You could still see where the blood had been, on the carpet, and his arm still hurt, and Celeste was buried in the ground outside...

...and of course, the world was a wasteland.

He got washed and dressed and had breakfast and watched the news. There wasn't much of the news. Maybe someone somewhere was regulating what the general public were allowed to know, pulling strings behind the scenes. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest.

Gerald made him go to the hospital, and Robbie and Rachel came with him. They didn't seem to like him being out of sight anymore. The doctor gave him more bandages and some pills, and didn't ask any questions.

And then it was most of the way through the day, and he realised he _missed _Celeste, but he tried not to think about her.

And then Maryann came to talk to him.

She was walking better now, although she had a stick to support herself with. She sat down next to him on the couch- the couch seemed to be quickly becoming a sort of meeting place. Maryann sat there for a couple of seconds looking at the blood on the floor.

"Is your arm better?"

"It's gonna get better."

"Good."

She didn't start to cry or anything. She just tapped her fingers on the sofa arm and said, simply but meaningfully, "Poor Tim."

"Yeah," Ray answered.

"He's had so much shit happen to him...it's insane."

Ray reflected on that, and then said the one thing which made sense, which seemed to him like it should be the thing every living human should be clinging to:

"But he's going to live."

"Yes," Maryann said. "He will."

A little time passed in which neither of them said anything, but Ray eventually felt forced to. "Maryann, um...the baby, Serena..."

"Yes?"

"You said she...oh god, I shouldn't bring this up, but...you were going to rebury her."

"Yes," Maryann said, making no attempt to disguise her grief. "We were. And we still will."

"I...I'm sorry. It...shouldn't have happened, should it?"

"No. It shouldn't," Maryann said. "But I will live." She gave a sort of shudder, and went on, "There could be another war, tomorrow. But I want to go into it wanting to come out. You get me?"

Ray supposed he did. "Uh-huh."

"And I will never forget Serena." This was said very, very fiercely, and Ray expected her to cry. But she didn't. Maybe her tears had run out.

There was silence for a few seconds.

"...I was just wondering..." Maryann spoke up, a bit uncertainly. "Did Tim tell you anything about my baby's...about Serena's name?"

"Umm...he said you picked the name Serena. Or I think he did."

"I named her after your great-aunt."

Ray stared, not getting it. Then he realised- oh, _that _was his great-aunt's name. Serena. He'd never been able to remember.

"That was where you agreed to marry me- your great-aunt's party," Maryann said. "I knew it was stupid. But I liked the name, and..."

"You wanted to..."

They stared at each other.

"Well. I...just...maybe it was dumb," Maryann whispered. And then she turned away. Ray expected Celeste to walk in any minute and disturb things, but then he remembered she couldn't. Because she was _dead_.

Celeste had tried to kill the children and Tim had shot her. He went over that in his mind. Celeste had suffered, and she wanted to make others suffer. She wanted him to suffer, because he hadn't. Not as much as her.

And again and again and again: Celeste had wanted to destroy his entire life. He had been good to her and she could have killed him, or worse, the children. And he had brought her here.

This could have gone round and round in his head for ages, but then Maryann sighed deeply and caught his attention. "What is it?"

"It just occured to me," she said, "that we thought we would never be able to live with each other again- and we've been in the same house the past five weeks."

* * *

In the late evening, Gerald came into the living room with a Christmas tree and a box of lights and tinsel.

"It's nearly Christmas," he said softly, before Ray could say anything.

Nearly Christmas. Now there was something hard to take in. Last Christmas he had holed himself up in the house and been miserable, then gone out with some friends and nearly ended up in a fight. He had hoped to spend the next Christmas with his family- and here he was.

"Is that a real Christmas tree?" he asked.

"No. We usually get a real one, but, well...go get the kids, they'll want to help."

Ray found them in the kitchen- they were sitting around the table with their mother, deep in conversation. Ray's first thought on seeing them was _okay, they're here, they're fine, now Celeste might want to help so where's she gone..._and then he remembered. And forced it out of his mind.

"Gerald's got a box of Christmas decorations," he said. "And a Christmas tree and everything."

"It's...god, you're right," Robbie said, aghast. "It _is _nearly Christmas."

Rachel gave what had to be a genuine smile. "Oh wow. What day is it? I know it's December..."

"It's the fourth," Maryann said. "You kids go with your father. I'll...be along."

Ray wanted to stay and ask her if she needed anything, but he went with the kids anyway.

* * *

By eleven o' clock, they had used up all the decorations. The tree was up, the electric candle display was in the window, and Ray had stood on a chair and hung up the paperchains. The only person who hadn't helped, or even been in the room, was Tim.

Gerald stood back and surveyed the room, and Ray wondered if he was going to make a speech about religion or Jesus or whatnot. But he didn't, although maybe he was just saving it for Christmas Day. Ray wasn't religious in the slightest, but he thought he could tolerate prayers and all that for one day, just for the sake of the others.

Rachel looked up at him.

"Dad," she said, "you need to talk to Tim."

"I already did," he answered. "I don't think he's up to talking, Rachel."

"_I'll _talk to him," Robbie suggested.

Ray considered this, and couldn't see anything wrong with it.

"You could, yeah."

* * *

The next day Tim was downstairs. He ate a bowl of cornflakes, sitting at the same table as everyone else, but didn't really make eye contact.

"What did you say to him?" Ray asked Robbie, once Tim had left.

"The usual stuff," Robbie said glumly. "You know...it's gonna be alright, we're all gonna be fine, you only shot her in self-defense...you know."

"What'd he say to you?"

"Not much. He just nodded and...stuff. He..." Robbie shook his head. "Um. He said there's almost definately going to be a war and he doesn't know what to do and he can't protect us. He said you would have to. And then he started crying."

Ray felt both shock and sympathy. Shock because of the _he said you would have to_ part. And sympathy because of everything else.

"Well, you tried," he said to Robbie. "It's not your fault he's..."

"Yeah," Robbie muttered.

* * *

After breakfast he sneaked out to the back garden, and looked at the freshly disturbed earth. There wasn't a gravestone, or any sort of marker at all. He ought to make one, but he didn't know how. And if he _was_ suddenly given a gravestone to put there, he wouldn't know what to write on it. He didn't even know Celeste's last name.

_Here lies Celeste, who couldn't live and ended up dying._

_Here lies Celeste, who probably would have been fine if not for the aliens._

_Here lies Celeste, who tried to kill my children..._

It was stupid. Maybe he should make a cross out of sticks or something. But there weren't any sticks or any trees. The helicopter had taken care of that.

So he went back inside.

* * *

For the next few days, Ray was not the only visitor at the hastily dug grave. Tim went as well, sitting there for hours on end. Ray knew because he found him there, the morning of December the seventh.

"Oh. Hello," he said.

"Hello," Tim answered.

Ray pretended to examine the helicopter remains. He wondered if maybe one of them- him, probably- should actually go and have a look inside. It would be -no, actually, it wasn't a good idea. It'd just be a shell full of dead bodies.

"I was thinking," he said to Tim. "We should make a gravestone."

Tim looked at him like he was stupid.

"For Celeste," Ray explained.

Tim shook his head and looked like he was about to burst out laughing. "We killed her! We fucking killed her! Or _I _fucking killed her, sorry. What if someone looks for her? A gravestone would be a hard thing to explain away, wouldn't it? God, you _idiot_."

It was all Ray could do not to yell at him. He just walked away.


	20. The Eve Of The War

**Survival**  
_20. The Eve of the War_

On the 23rd of December, the day which Rachel called Christmas Eve Eve, Ray took the kids Christmas shopping. Very, very few shops were open, and even fewer were selling toys. There were no adverts for half-price sales, no big displays in the windows, no Santas, and no light-up reindeer. Ray had often heard people ranting about the commercialisation of Christmas- his father had spoken out about it on an annual basis- but he expected that all those people, wherever they were, missed it like hell as well.

They trudged the streets. It wasn't snowing.

Ray bought food, mostly. He tried to get nice things, but there weren't many nice things to be found. Rachel and Robbie bought clothes for their mother and grandmother, shoes for their grandfather, and DVDs for Tim. They made Ray look away while they picked out his present.

Then they went back home. They went past the notice board. Ray scanned it automatically, just in case- just in case his brother was looking for him and thought that the best way to do it.

At the house they wrapped the presents, and put them under the tree. Gerald turned the tree lights on, and it was very easy to imagine, once the room was lit with a cosy light, that all was right with the world.

The catch there, of course, was that if all had been right with the world, they wouldn't be all in the same house about to have a Christmas together.

Or would they?

"It's getting dark," Rachel murmured. "I forgot it gets dark so quick now."

Ray and Robbie looked out of the window. Some of the broken lamposts were on, and a few lights in the houses. Looking at the lights, he wondered about something.

"The other people," Robbie said thoughtfully, as if reading his mind. "We should...I dunno...bring them something. I mean, like- that light over there- that's just down the street, and we don't know who lives there."

Ray looked across the room at Anna.

"I don't know," she said. "We didn't know everyone in the street."

"We could find out, then, I suppose," Gerald said.

Ray closed the curtains. "We could," he said. "But it's...what...ten o' clock, kids. Bedtime."

Gradually, everyone trooped off to bed, leaving Ray alone in the living room. He wandered out the the kitchen and looked out of the back window, at the place where there wasn't a gravestone.

And then he thought he heard the phone ring. It made him jump out of his skin and turn away from the window straight away. He raced out of the kitchen, and figured that no, he must have imagined it.

It rang again.

No-one else seemed to have heard it. He shuddered, but he went to the phone. What if it was...

_What if..._

No. Ghosts didn't exist. Only in the mind.

He picked up the telephone and tried to find his voice.

"H-hello?"

"Hello?" came a tired-sounding voice on the other end. It was a female voice, and Ray was temporarily terrified. Why was it so dark? Why hadn't he left the light on? Was he just dreaming this? "Are my mother and father there?"

Ray didn't know what to do. "Um. I don't know. Who is this?" There were footsteps on the stairs now.

The voice ignored his question. Whoever it was sounded utterly desperate and nearly hysterical. "Is _anyone _there? Who is this? Maryann Johnson, is _she _there?"

And then Ray thought he knew who it was, although he was still keeping his guard up. "Yeah. Yeah, she is. Um, are you...?"

"Miriam," said the voice on the phone, as Anna came running down the stairs and through the door. "Maryann's sister. Miriam Johnson."

* * *

Miriam's story was not among the worst. It was bad, certainly, but not as bad as it might have been. She had been badly injured in her collapsing house: someone- she didn't know who- had rescued her and taken her to a hospital. She'd been in a coma, and had nearly died, but hadn't. As soon as she'd had access to a phone she'd phoned her parent's house, knowing Maryann had gone there, and barely expecting anyone would actually be there alive. It had indeed taken that long for her to be healed, released from hospital, and able to get to a phone. But she had done it, and she was now at the house, with them, and alive.

Her best friend was dead- Miriam had seen her body. Her boyfriend was missing- he'd gone to England on holiday- but Miriam was hoping he'd be found.

She had finished telling her story in under an hour, and then looked around at the others, and asked what had happened to them. Tim said nothing. So Ray did instead.

He explained that it had been an ordinary day, then there had been a storm, then the next thing he knew there was a giant alien war machine stalking the streets. He had grabbed the kids and run. He had lost Robbie on the way (he glanced nervously at Robbie as he said this, but Robbie just nodded) and then taken shelter in a cellar. He skipped over everything that had happened inside the cellar, but kept in the part about the tripod. Miriam's mouth fell open at that. He mentioned the stay in the church, didn't mention Joe, and let Maryann whisper one sentence about Serena.

And then he mentioned Celeste. He felt like he had to.

"...and...there was a fight. With the gun. And she...died. We..."

_Buried her in the back garden _sounded just plain laughable now.

"...well, she's dead."

Miriam did something thoroughly unexpected, to him at least. She hugged her sister, and her parents, and then him, and then everyone else.

* * *

Christmas Day.

Ray, Robbie and Rachel went to every house on the street, carrying a bowl full of chocolates. Most houses seemed empty. Ray knocked on the door of the dead old woman's house, just in case there was someone else in there now, but no-one answered.

The fifth house door was answered by a woman. She stared out at them suspiciously.

"Yes?" she said.

"We're making a trip to meet the neighbours," Ray said, as charmingly as he could. "Seeing as it's Christmas and all. And you're the neighbours."

The woman looked at them all and shook her head. She shook her head at the candy, as well. "No," she murmured softly. And then, "Who are you?"

"We're from down the street," Robbie said helpfully.

"I've never seen you before."

"We came, ur, after everything happened."

The woman nodded. "Well. Thank you," she said.

* * *

They wandered through the whole street. Ray began to feel faintly ridiculous after a while- it was the offering people candy that did it- but he wasn't going to complain.

They ran into a few people on the street. Nobody they recognized. One was an old man, whose reaction to them was "It's Christmas?"

"Yeah," Robbie said.

The man shook his head and went on. "No point really, is there?" he said. "No point at all."

Robbie stared after him and looked at the other two.

"We'd better go home," Ray said thoughtfully. "We've been to every house."

"Didn't get much out of it," Robbie muttered. "Not really."

"Did too," Rachel said.

* * *

On their way back home, in sight of the house, they ran into a street musician. He was just some young guy with a guitar, playing _Hallelujah_. Ray didn't recognize the song, but Rachel did.

"I know that song!" she said happily. "They play it on the radio a lot."

The musician grinned at her.

Rachel started singing along. Ray let her, and glanced up at the house. Someone was coming out- it was Tim. He was walking slowly.

"Meet anyone interesting?" he asked, as soon as he was near.

"Not really," Ray said. "No-one wants to talk much. Is Maryann alright?"

"Yeah," Tim muttered.

All of them hung around and listened. There were a couple of other people in the street, too, and they were doing the same. The guy with the guitar looked a little embarrassed as he sang.

"...I used to live alone before I knew you..."

Eventually he trailed off.

"That's all I know," he muttered. "Sorry. Wasn't expecting an audience."

"That was good," Rachel said.

"Oh. Thanks. Um, I'll be going..."

"Do you know any other songs?" Robbie asked.

"No," the guy said. "Sorry."

He wandered off, and the four of them went back to the house. It was pretty cold. Rachel hummed the song as they went.

"It was in _Shrek_," she said brightly. "That song. I think I had the soundtrack. You know, used to."

"You did," Robbie said.

They entered the house, and Miriam greeted them.

"Maryann was a bit worried," she said. "And the others, too. Um, I suppose we could open presents, or have Christmas lunch, or something."

"I'm gonna check the TV first."

He checked the TV. He flicked through all of the channels; it was the same old news.

"Did I mention- did I tell you about the war...stuff?" he asked her nervously.

"I know about that," she answered. "It was hard to avoid. I don't think they're really going to...are they?"

Ray shrugged.

They didn't talk about it the rest of the day. They opened the presents and ate the food, and watched the windows and watched everything.

* * *

And then night fell- far too fast.

Ray was the only one downstairs again- everyone else was upstairs, hopefully asleep. He wandered through to the back yard once more.

_Here lies Celeste, who things could have been different for._

He looked past the graveyard to the wreckage, and to the sky. They could be up there right now- more of Them, coming back for another go. Or, more likely, nukes were starting to fly, some place other than here.

He might not even know, until everything went white one day. He might not even know that the aliens had uncovered the worst of all humanity, and human weapons were being built on a pile of corpses. Those people hadn't died because of other people. The ones who were left very well might do.

And they wanted him, as well. Because of one desperate act. They wanted him to be on their side, to give them information, tell them what he had seen inside one of the best weapons to ever walk the earth.

And of course, all he had seen had been darkness.

The back door creaked open behind him. He didn't know who it was- it could be Tim, or his brother come back to find him, or even, somehow, impossibly, Celeste.

It was Maryann.

"I thought you'd be out here," she said. "I've heard you every night coming out here."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

They both leaned against the wall of the house.

"I took a look at the television," Maryann whispered. "Saw the news. It's happening, Ray. All the remaining helicopters and tanks and stuff are going to go to war for a thousand stupid reasons, and they're going to destroy everything."

"When?" Ray whispered urgently.

"I don't know. No-one said. I think they're..." She swallowed. "I think we're not supposed to know. No-one's supposed to know."

Ray said nothing, because no curse could sum this up.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Maryann said. "This is the biggest disaster in human history, and it did nothing. It made things worse. I thought if one good thing came from the deaths of Joe and...Celeste's children and everyone, it would be some sort of gurantee that no-one else would ever kill! And they did! Even _here_! In this house! And _we can't do a thing about it_!"

She looked so angry. Ray was reminded of the time, so very long ago, when she'd called him out for taking an innocent life. And this was on a much bigger scale. People in their millions should be angry and screaming at the sky.

And maybe they were, far from here.

"They forgot," Maryann whispered. "Or they didn't care."

Ray put his arms around her.

"I know," he said hopelessly. "But at the moment, I guess we're alive."

"You _guess _we're alive?" Maryann said, smiling slightly. "Oh, god...there must be something we can do..." She trailed off, and then said, her voice coming out all in a rush, "They're trying to get the machines working. They're going to make them walk under the sea to other countries and let them loose. With human pilots. And they want people to drive them, and people to defeat the ones on the other side, and that's what they'll want you for, because you blew one up. Not many people did that. And they'll track you down eventually, because, you know, twenty, thirty people saw it happened- got saved by you. And they'll..."

She shook her head fiercely.

"I won't tell them anything," Ray said. "I _promise_."

"Yeah," she said. "I know."

They stayed out in the garden a long, long time, watching the skies. They would never be safe anymore. Christmas Day, 2006, and death had come to Earth.

Ray and Maryann walked out to look at the helicopter. Things were beginning to grow on it now. Plants, and very small flowers. No red weed in sight.

It was a calm night- the calm between two storms.

Just a few months ago, and this would have been unfathomable. The world had changed so much.

They walked among the wreckage until it was almost midnight. Their only real hopes were in the house- their children were still alive, in the one almost safe place on Earth.

And there they would remain.

_"Celeste, listen to me. You're gonna survive. You'll grow old, and you'll tell your story to millions of people, and you'll never forget your children and all that you've lost but you'll be strong, alright? You'll be strong because of them. I know it's hard, alright, but...you will live, Celeste._

_You will live."  
_

THE END


End file.
